


The One With Whiskey Eyes

by boldcreations



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: 24 Soulmarks, Depression, F/F, F/M, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Motherly Instincts, Past Abuse, Platonic Soulmates, Possessive Tendencies, Protective Personalities, Romantic Soulmates, Sexual Content, Soulmarks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2018-10-24 07:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 66,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldcreations/pseuds/boldcreations
Summary: Not everyone had a soulmate, there were many in the world who were unmarked. Iris Mayfair, however, has been forced to hide her skin for nearly thirty years. She doesn't have just one or two soulmates--even three would make people sneer and judge--no, she has twenty-three legible marks on her skin; with a blurry, unfinished twenty-fourth freshly bloomed across her flesh.Desperate to find answers for the cause of so much pain in her life, for as long as she could remember, actually, Iris goes to Dr. Karen Fletcher in hopes of finding answers.Well...she definitely finds something.(Takes place prior to the events of the film, and continues into it.)





	1. Prologue

Soulmates were common, but not everyone had one. The first words ever spoken between two people destined to be together were forever etched into the skin. Everyone’s varied, depending on the people and the chance encounter that would be their first meeting. Some had a simple ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you’ while others could have more complexity to them, like ‘well, it took you long enough’ or the unfortunate ‘how much of an idiot do you have to be?’

There were even people who had more than one soulmate, usually receiving a bitter encounter with those who lacked a soulmark; more often than not, those with soulmarks were hated by the un-marked, but those with more than one were absolutely despised.

It was for that reason that Iris Mayfair kept herself covered from head to toe in her oversized clothing for as long as she could remember. Since she was a child, every few years one or more soulmarks would appear on her body. By the time she was in her twenties, she had twenty-three soulmarks along her skin. Some were simple, others were complicated, many were downright confusing; _Look, look! We have matching socks!_ and _Finally, I get the light!_

Only recently did another mark begin to appear, still foggy and unreadable, along a bare patch on her chest. It was short, probably nothing more than one word, and it made her curious since no other marks were quite that simple for her. Though, one on the inside of her arm was _Hello my dear._

It was due to her soulmarks that she had led such a rough life; not many outsiders knew of her marks, but her parents believed her to be a monster, a freak of nature that wasn’t meant to be. They were unmarked, having met and fallen in love through the connection of their empty bodies. For as long as she could remember her body was covered and she was forbidden to show her skin. There was one mark that was shown on the back of her left hand unless she wore gloves, in small, neat writing that looked meticulous and practiced— _Sh, sh, shh, quiet now._

This mark, as well as a few others, were still readable but now bore burns or scars from her parents’ attempts as removing them from her skin. If they couldn’t be taken off, they attempted to try to cover them up.

Iris had fled home when she was still young, lying low and scrounging by until she was eighteen and legally capable of renting a tiny apartment that she afforded with a meagre job. It wasn’t often she went out, opting instead to stay home and out of sight. Running away before she was able finish school, Iris taught herself what she could through her love of reading.

She read as much as she could find about soulmarks, and as far as she could tell the most ever recorded on a person was three. Her twenty-four made that record pale in comparison.

It was through her readings that she learned about Dr. Fletcher, who had had been researching Dissociative Identity Disorder and the effect it had on those with soulmarks. For months, Iris debated on whether or not to contact this doctor, worried that she would either have to expose her greatest secret—and therefore her scars—or if she would have to pay her.

Lacking in money as she was, holding down a management position as best she could, it wasn’t as though she could afford a therapist of any kind.

However, she finally worked up the courage to call the woman and was relieved to know that she was willing to speak with her in complete confidence and no charge. So, trying to find the same courage she had to make that phone call, Irish made her way to Dr. Fletcher’s office in the early afternoon between two of the woman’s appointments.

It took several flights of stairs to get up to her floor, making Iris regret wearing so many layers when she left her apartment. It was still early spring so it hadn’t gotten warm yet, but even in the summer her sleeves were long so she’d become mostly accustomed to it. However, with a shirt, sweater and coat on she was sweating by the time she reached the designated floor.

Taking a moment to compose herself—unbuttoning her coat for some relief from the heat—and checking the time on her phone, she then reached forward to knock on the expense looking wood, beneath the gold name plate fastened to the door.

“Come in!”

Hesitating only a moment as she glanced at her gloved hand, which held the mark, she opened the door and timidly slipped in through a barely-there gap.

“Miss. Mayfair?” the elderly woman asked as she rose from her seat, offering a friendly smile, and motioned the young woman further inside. “Please, come and sit. May I get you anything to drink?”

“No. No, that’s alright, thank you,” she answered, barely flicking her eyes up to her before they returned to the floor. “I hope I am not interrupting your schedule.”

“Nonsense, child, plenty of time.” Iris moved forward to take the seat that she motioned toward, sinking into the overstuffed cushions. “You mentioned that you wished to speak of my work with soulmarks,” she began gently, sinking into it slowly. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“I…I have many soulmarks,” she began, folding her unmarked hand over her marked on, even though she had yet to remove her gloves. “I read in one of your articles that you believe several marks could mean a soulmate with Dissociative Identity Disorder; a mark for each personality.”

“Yes; I have not proven the theory yet, however. I have yet to interview a patient who has met their soulmate…well, there was one but she only had one mark from the original personality, she never met the personalities.”

Iris’s shoulders slumped at the news, sighing softly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you met your soulmate?” Dr. Fletcher asked carefully, leaning forward in her seat as she carefully looked over the young woman before her. She was in her late twenties, that much she knew, maybe early thirties if she was to push it, with dark blonde hair and pale, pale skin—like she never set foot in sunlight—and her eyes, from the brief glance she had, were a light whiskey colour. She was short, barely more than five feet, and remarkably skinny if the thinness of her neck proved anything. Her clothing hid the rest.

“No, I have not,” she admitted, one more looking up at the other woman’s face only briefly before she looked away again.

“And…how many marks do you have?”

Immediately, Iris flinched and clenched up. Should she say?

“A lot,” she dodged, glanced at the back of her palm as though she would be able to see through the black glove that she was wearing.

“More than three?” Dr. Fletcher pressed, her tone remaining soft and gentle.

“Many,” Iris choked out, hoping that she wasn’t making a mistake.

Her eyes widened at the simple word, leaning in closer as she lifted a ring-decorated hand and tapping her fingertips along her lips. “Would you tell me how many?”

“I…would rather not.”

Iris fidgeted in her seat, repressing the urge to turn and run. After all, she had been the one to contact the therapist in the hopes of getting some answers. “May I at least see some? However many you are comfortable with.”

Swallowing against the lump in her throat as she raised light whiskey eyes up to meet the doctor’s interested stare. Finally, she pulled off the black glove of her left hand to revealed the neat, tight writing, then rolled up her sleeve to the elbow to show three more along her forearm— _Oh, the eyes, look at them eyes_ encircled her wrist, _Hello my dear_ running along the inside of her forearm near her elbow, and _He’s told us about you, little one, he really likes you_ beginning at her elbow and running along the outside of her forearm toward her wrist.

All four were of different handwriting. The one on the outside of her forearm was marred with a long scar running through it, distorting the words slightly but they were still easily legible due to the thinness of the scar. It had been sewn shut carefully, preserving the mark.

Dr. Fletcher reached out, pausing long enough to meet Iris’s concerned eyes to seek her approval, before she clasped her hand to turn her arm this way and that as she looked over the marks, examining the scar as well. “Fascinating,” she murmured, the chill of her rings almost causing Iris to pull back. It had been a long time since she had been touched by anyone, even voluntarily. “Were you born with them all?”

“No, she responded, slowly pulling her hand away and lowering her sleeve. “I was born with some, but the others appeared over time.”

Resuming her original seat, Dr. Fletcher rested her fingers against her lips again. The woman before her was interesting all on her own; she was shy and timid and the way she was crumpled in on herself reminded the older woman of her more abused patients, who had gone through trauma or abuse during their life. Reluctance to meet her eyes only further supported the theory. Knowing how some reacted to soulmarks, especially those with several, she assumed it had something to do with the very reason she had come to see her.

“Miss. Mayfair, would you please tell me…how many soulmarks you have?”

So many attempts to find out the number of marks on this woman proved to be too much for her, because Iris abruptly stood as she quickly shook her head and pulled her glove on quickly.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Dr. Fletcher, I should be going,” she quickly excused as she rushed around the chair to head for the door.

“Miss. Mayfair, please-”

Yanking the door open, Iris nearly barreled into the person that was standing on the other side, hand poised to knock before the door had been opened so abruptly. Both of them jumped back at the appearance of another person, Iris meeting with the young man’s light blue eyes before she immediately ducked her head down again, staring at her feet as she self-consciously began to close her coat, even though all of her markings were once more covered up by her clothes.

“Ohh, babe, I’m loving that coat,” he praised when her motion drew his eyes to her wool coat—one of the few things she actually splurged on for herself when she saved up enough extra cash. Technically, it was out of fashion now, but she’d taken very good care of it and the man’s keen eyes noticed that detail immediately.

Iris went absolutely still at his words, thinking of that exact sentence that was presently wrapped around her right bicep. The only thing to move again was her eyes, which snapped up to his again in complete shock. He was grinning at her crookedly, revealed white teeth and faint laugh-lines around his eyes.

This man? He was…no, that wasn’t possible.

One of twenty-four soulmates was a curse for someone. To have to share among twenty-three other people was just cruel.

And Iris doubted she would survive through twenty-four different soulmates. The people meant to love her and protect her most beat her and cut into her in more ways than just the physical. Those memories were not so easily brushed aside.

Before she fully comprehended her own actions, words were spilling forth from her lips, “I can’t,” she blurted out, feeling the burn of tears as she looked away from him so she wouldn’t have to witness his reaction. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”

Rushing passed him in the next instant, flattening herself against the doorway abruptly so as not to touch him, Irish flew down the stairs as quickly as her short, slim legs could take her while she continued to clutch her coat tightly against herself.

She was already to the last flight of stairs before “ _Wait! Please, wait!_ ” was shouted from above, echoing through the open concept building, followed by the thundering of footfalls as the man rushed to follow her. The booming echo of his steps made her flinch as she leapt the last three steps and dashed out the doors and turned a sharp right. Ducking into the alley beside the building and rushing down far enough to hide in the side alcove, out of sight, Iris silently prayed that he would look around and give up when he couldn’t find her fleeing down the street. She couldn’t wait there all day.

She shook like a leaf from head to toe, hands clutching at the lapels of her undone coat in a grip so tight she wondered if she’d ruined the material. For how long she’d stood there, hidden from view, she wasn’t sure. However, no one came out shouting for her and no one came down the alley. Taking the time to calm her breathing and quickly rearrange her appearance, Iris eventually peeked around the corner before pulling up her hood and taking the chance to leave the alley.

Not daring to glance back for the doors, the trembling woman walked back home as calmly as possible, avoiding any attention she could.

Sitting in the chair that she had vacated in Dr. Fletcher’s office, Barry’s mind was reeling. He thought of the writing that twined the back of his calf, in soft, feminine scrawl, and the words that he had always feared would be said. None of them knew who would be the one that heard them, and it faintly broke his heart that it was him, but he was relieved that it hadn’t been Kevin or one of the more gentle personalities that had been born of Kevin’s need for them.

“Doc, what was that?” he finally asked, raising bewildered eyes to the elderly woman that sat silently across from him, giving him time to process. “What…what did I do wrong?”

“Oh, Barry, you did nothing wrong,” she assured, her tone motherly and kind. “Miss. Mayfair called me last week about soulmarks, stating that she had quite a few that were all different styles of writing and she wanted to speak to me about some of my research on reasons for multiple soulmarks. She was only here for a few minutes but…I think she’s been hurt for her marks before, one of them had a long scar through it. She was so scared and timid and she wouldn’t look at me. I think she’s just scared of getting hurt again.”

Barry’s heart sunk at the same time that anger sparked within him. “Someone hurt her?” he demanded, leaning forward abruptly.

“I don’t know for sure. She didn’t say much, but she has four marks on her left arm alone from palm to elbow. When I asked how many she had, she only said ‘a lot’.”

Barry swallowed thickly as he shifted in his seat, thinking over her words as he repressed the urge to run after her again. By the time he got through the entrance doors, she was nowhere to be seen, he’d have no way of finding her.

“So she’s ours? She’s got one for all of us?”

“Well, from your reaction I dare say she’s definitely _yours_ ,” Dr. Fletched answered with a smile, getting a hesitant one in return. “Tell me…does the writing of your marks all match?”

Yes. They did. It was one of the few things that all of the personalities agreed on. The writing was the same for each of the words and phrases on their body. They had even had debates and arguments about which mark would match which personality—no one had ever believed that Barry would be the one to get one of the harshest sentences. Most of them were kind, some were hesitant or afraid, but that was the only one that showed immediate rejection of some kind.

In truth, they had all thought that Dennis would be told those words. Now Barry briefly wondered which ones would actually be said to him.

Jade was going to have a field day with this new development.


	2. Black Words and Silver Scars

Opening her apartment door only enough to slip through, Iris immediately locked the deadbolts behind her as a long sigh blew passed her lips. "Why did I think that was a good idea?" she muttered to herself as her head fell back against the door with a barely audible thud. "I'm insane." Pushing off the door and stepping into the tiny space of her apartment, barely enough to be called that since it was one large room with a tiny washroom the only space separate from the kitchen/bedroom, Iris carefully unbuttoned her coat and moved to the closet to hang it up.

Even the closet was just an open alcove with a bar that she'd hung—nearly taking her finger off because she was _not_ a handy person.

Ducking into the kitchen portion of the apartment to make herself a tea, Iris hoped it would be enough to calm her frayed nerves before she had to go to work that evening. When speaking with Dr. Fletcher on the phone, she'd decided that it was best to meet with the woman before she had to go to work instead of taking up her next day off. Of course, now she wished that she had not gone to the building at all but if she had she really should have done so on her day off.

Her hands trembled when she filled her kettle with water and placed it on the stovetop, causing some of it to splash out onto her hand. Immediately shaking the water off of her mark, Iris flinched like she'd been burned. The thinness of her hand meant that when she spread her fingers out to look more closely at the mark, her tendons lifted beneath her skin and rippled the words.

Even after everything that she had been through when she was younger, up until she had finally had enough and ran away from home, Iris did not hate her marks. Many times she had sought comfort from them, and even strength. They had withstood so much from her parents; she figured that she could as well. If they were strong enough, deep enough, that her parents couldn't ruin them or destroy them then she could survive it as well.

Tracing over the neat writing, with the ring finger of her other hand, Iris smiled faintly.

The smile didn't last, however, as the reality of what had happened returned to the forefront of her mind. She had met her soulmate today—or one of them, at least—and she had been absolutely horrible to him. Not only were her first words to the poor man those of rejection, but she had run away from him as well. None of her marks were rude or aggressive, so she could only imagine what he must have felt by her reaction to hearing what he said.

That was not how she expected meeting her soulmate to go.

Whatever had made her say those words only caused regret and despair to claw at her insides now, wishing for nothing more than the chance to take those words back.

A few people she had met over the years had told her stories of their marks, some of which were a statement of rejection. That rejection wasn't always sorted out and they were left disconnected from a soulmate that didn't want them. A friend she had in her early high-school years, prior to running away, had the mark that said 'come on, of all people it had to be _you_?' on her leg. Iris couldn't remember ever seeing her friend in shorts, keeping her mark covered just like Iris's.

"I'm a horrible person," she whispered to the mark on her hand, clenching it into a fist.

Abruptly stepping back from the counter, Iris pulled off the sweater she had thrown on before she'd left earlier, followed by the long-sleeved undershirt, and soon stood in her bra as she looked down at the scratchy writing on her bicep. Stroking her fingers along the skin, thankfully one patch that didn't hold scars from her parents.

The sudden ring of her cellphone jerked her out of her thoughts so abruptly that she leapt in place, hand clutching at the mark on her arm as though desperate for it. Abandoning the small kitchen in favour of snatching her cellphone from the pocket of her coat, relieved that she'd set it on ring otherwise she never would have remembered where it was, Iris pulled it out and glanced briefly at the lit screen.

_Karen Fletcher_

"No," she mumbled, staring down at the phone as her heart began beating quickly in her chest. Would that man still be there? Was he having the doctor call Iris?

Hating the thought of ignoring him or the doctor again, Iris tapped the accept button and lifted the phone reluctantly to her ear.

"Hello, Dr. Fletcher."

" _Miss. Mayfair, are you alright? I'm sure that today was not what you expected..._ "

Sighing softly as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, the closest thing to sit on, Iris leaned her forehead in one hand while the other clutched at the cellphone. "I'm sorry for running out like I did...and for running _away_. I...I hope..."

" _Barry understands that it's overwhelming, to meet a soulmate_ ," Dr. Fletched offered, the name of the man making Iris lift her head as her hand fell over her lips, the pain and guilt returning. Why was it easier when he didn't have a name? " _I know that it takes a bit of time to adjust to knowing you met your soulmate, especially with how afraid you seem to be of yours_ -"

"I'm not afraid of my marks," Iris interrupted. "I love my marks. But...I never thought that I..."

The other line remained silent for a moment before Dr. Fletched began again softly, " _Iris...there are many things that need to come to light. And I want to assure you that things will work, but I cannot do that if you don't talk to me. Barry wants to know you, and I'm sure your other soulmates do as well_ ," she continued to explain calmly.

"You...know you who they are, don't you?" Iris struggled out, fidgeting in place as her attention drifted down to her exposed arms and the various marks and scars that were on display.

" _I may,_ " Fletcher answered hesitantly. " _But that is not up to me to say. For now, I want to speak with you again, if you're willing._ "

"I dunno, Dr. Fletcher. Even if you say he understands...what I said was awful. And to have to share me with so many others?"

Dr. Fletcher didn't speak up right away, as though she was trying to think of how to phrase what was on her mind. " _You and Barry need to discuss this, not you and I, but I do want to help you, Iris. I can see that you're in pain, that you've struggled through your life, and it's because of those marks. Those soulmates. I don't want you to have to carry that pain around with you for the rest of your life._ "

"I don't think I could afford your services," she argued, sounding tired. "And as I said, I love my marks. There is nothing from my past that changes that."

" _You may love your marks, but I can see that they have...cause problems for you, Iris. Please, just meet with me one more time, no charge, so we can discuss this._ "

Knowing that someone could see through her so easily, especially someone that had insight on her marks—and her scars—made Iris's skin prickle uncomfortably. She trembled in place as her scars itched faintly, her shoulders shaking with the motion, before she clenched her muscles and hunched forward with the effort to remain still and frozen.

"I can't," she struggled out, the crack in her voice feeling like a strike through her vocal cords. "I'm sorry."

Hurriedly hanging up with a shaky thumb over the 'end call' button as tears burned her eyes, Iris tried not to think of the blue-eyed man that had said one of the twenty-four marks on her body. The phone clattered to the floor without further thought as Iris remained hunched at the edge of her bed, wearing only her bra across her torso as her pale skin pebbled against the cold air. Her nails scraped across her arms, leaving red welts in their wake, unable to control the urge to remove the itches.

Carefully focusing on her breathing and doing her best to remain as calm as possible, Iris was almost too far gone into her mind to hear a second call come through her phone. The upturn screen once more read Dr. Fletcher's name, but this time went ignored and unanswered as the pale woman struggled to push aside the panic attack threatening to overtake her.

Dr. Fletcher sighed as her call went to voicemail, moving to hang up the phone in her office before she sat in front of her computer forlornly. She had done her best to assure Barry that she would talk to Iris again, knowing that he and the other alters were going to have their own ways of dealing with what happened today. She had hoped that speaking with Iris and helping her through some of the struggles of her past may prompt her to seek Barry out again, but Iris had no desire to dredge up what had happened.

That alone told the older woman that they were old scars, both emotional and physical, and Iris had dealt with them in her own way—no matter how unhealthy that way may be.

Typing out an email to Barry that she had not been able to get a hold of Iris, hoping to avoid telling him of her first conversation with the woman, she assured him that she would try again and keep him informed before then she signed and sent the email.

Iris Mayfair, if Fletcher was to assume, had been abused while growing up because of her numerous soulmarks. Whether it was by family or people unrelated to her, she was mostly unsure, but she was leaning toward it having been one or both parents. Knowing for certain would help her to formulate a way of helping Iris, but the first hurdle was to actually make Iris want the help.

The woman was so accustomed to dealing with her pain and problems on her own, she probably didn't trust easily—if at all.

Barry had been the one to say the words, not Kevin. It had been one of his personalities that spoke the words of Iris's mark, and if Fletcher was so bet she would say that Iris had twenty-three marks on her body—one for each of the personalities in Kevin Wendell Crumb's body. Kevin's case was special on its own, having as many stable personalities as he did. But to have a soulmate with a mark for each personality was something that she had been trying to find for years.

Iris Mayfair was an amazing anomaly, and a perfect match for Kevin and the personalities that had made their reason for being to protect Kevin. The young woman reminded her of Kevin, sweet and gentle and easily hurt by those around her with a past that left her carrying deep wounds.

Sitting back in her chair she tapped ring-decorated fingers against her lips in thought. Perhaps Iris had some kind of record that she could get her hands on, even just to better understand what she was dealing with.

It wouldn't be easy to obtain if she did, but it was at least something to look into.

She only hoped that Barry was able to keep the alters in control for the time being. She knew quite a few would rather go out and look for the poor woman on their own, and that could be dangerous for an already tender situation.

She had not met all of them yet, but there were some she knew who would have different ways of handling the situation than what Barry had done just recently.

Deciding that it was best to let Iris be for the rest of the day, the woman more than likely uncomfortably overwhelmed, Fletcher rose from her desk chair and began preparing for her next appointment. Barry had shown up early, the sole reason for running into Iris, and they had decided to cut the session short when she had constantly caught him going silent and lost in his mind—it made her wonder if he had been speaking with the alters or just thinking on his own about what had taken place.

Beneath the Philadelphia Zoo, Barry was sitting in the small kitchen of the home that they had created for themselves, the rooms of the abandoned tunnels making up a home of twenty-three personalities. Eyes closed as he rested his elbows on the table, forehead on his fists—ignoring the reprimanding look that he got from Patricia when he did it—Barry sat among the others in their circle of chairs, the light at his back shoulders casting a shadow among them.

Kevin remained sleeping quietly in his chair, curled up comfortably as the others spoke softly alongside him.

"Well, well, well, who'd have thought that sweet, innocent Barry would get rejected," Jade teased, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was sorry for what he had gone through. None of them had wanted to be the ones to hear those words, so even as relieved as she was to not hear them, she felt sorry for him to have been the one.

"At least it wasn't him," he answered, glancing over to Kevin. He looked much younger and happier in his sleep, where he was safe. They knew he couldn't remain asleep forever, it was cruel to take his life from him, but they only wanted to protect him from the world.

"Well, that crosses one mark off," Orwell pointed out, tapping the calf that he had crossed over his other thigh, where the mark lay beneath his pants.

Dennis remained silent, even though he wanted to mention how they had been so sure he would be the one to hear those words. It did, however, make him curious to know what was going to be said to him.

If they could every find this woman again.

"What did you do to chase her away?" Hedwig asked innocently, rocking his chair to and fro, from front legs to back legs.

"Stop that," Rakal ordered, reaching over to slam all four legs of Hedwig's chair back on the ground. The nine year old pouted and crossed his arms, glancing away from the larger man as he looked over to where Barry was oddly silent. Normally he'd be trying to call them all to order, to bring some kind of conduct to their group talks like this.

"I did not chase her away," he answered calmly, ignoring the small issue between Rakal and Hedwig. "Dr. Fletcher mentioned that she was timid and afraid the entire time they were speaking. She thinks something happened to her...something to do with the marks."

Mary Reynolds sighed softly from across the circle. "Multiple soulmarks still cause problems for people...twenty-three of them? You all know the difficulty we faced with ours. Kevin had us to help him, we all had each other, she...probably had no one."

"She has us," Dennis finally spoke up, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on his pant-leg, drawing the attention of the other alters his way. "We protect Kevin. We keep him safe from everything in this world that wants to hurt him...and we will protect her as well."

Rare as it was, Barry was nodding his head in agreement. "He's right," he answered, getting some looks of surprise. He and Dennis did not see eye-to-eye often, they had such contradicting personalities and dominant mindsets that it often caused them to clash. "She is ours to protect now. She has been hurt and it won't be easy...but she was meant for us. All of us. So that makes it worth it."

"Let's find her first," Patricia interrupted calmly. "Then we will go from there."

Barry looked over to Samuel, who he had already decided would be the one to next enter the light. Samuel was slightly older, in his early forties, so Barry knew that he wasn't going to go rushing out to try and find her, probably just scaring her away in the process. Rising from the seat that Barry had claimed, Samuel stepped from the kitchen to go and change into his own clothing, more formal than Barry's but not nearly as monochromatic as Dennis's.

They all knew what Iris looked like now, thanks to Barry and his odd enjoyment with going to see Dr. Fletcher as he ended up running into their fleeing soulmate.

Now they were all left to wonder where they would go from there; Iris had run, and they had no idea where she went or how to find her. There was a chance that Dr. Fletcher would be able to follow through with her assurances and get a hold of the young woman, but they had their doubts after having lived through the life that Kevin was raised in.

If she was anything like Kevin, she would want to avoid the problem on her own. It was Kevin's way of coping and they were born as a result of it.

Entering his bedroom and beginning to remove Barry's clothes, making a mental note to drop them off in his room on his way passed, Samuel wondered what their little soulmate was doing in that moment. Was she thinking of them? How was she handling the knowledge that she had found one of her twenty-three soulmates?

Did she know that all soulmates were housed in one body?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO happy that everyone's liking this story so far; first time I've done a soulmate AU and I am having so much fun with it. If anyone thinks that I'm not quite getting the personalities--that we know about--quite right, please let me know so I can correct it and make this story as true to the characters as I can. I got the names of the other personalities from the movie, when Casey is looking at the computer, but majority of them I will be making up how they act and what they're like.


	3. Who Are We to Question Fate?

One week.

One week of horrible sleep, exhaustingly long shifts and stressful walks along the street.

Her every waking thought revolved around her marks and the blue-eyed man, Barry, who she had met while trying to rush from Dr. Fletcher’s office. She couldn’t sleep properly, she couldn’t focus at work and every person with a dark coat and pale skin caused her to jerk and instinctively try to get closer while consciously trying to get away. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions and it was beginning to affect her more each day.

She’d heard of this before, when soulmates were too far from one another after they had met—although, it was usually when people had average soulmarks that were easy to miss the actual interaction, usually caused by simple ‘hello’ or ‘have a nice day’ soulmarks that someone heard a hundred times a day.

Even if she hadn’t outright rejected him, Iris’s determination to stay away while instincts and desires screamed at her to find him—them—was straining her impossibly. She hoped that it wasn’t doing the same to him, but deep down she knew that those kinds of dreams were foolish. He would be feeling the same things as her.

And thus returned the guilt.

Her coworkers were beginning to notice her paler-than-average skin and the shadows that had formed beneath her eyes, which resulted in her being ordered by the owners of the large bookstore she worked at to take the weekend off. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had taken a weekend for herself; her coworkers all hated having to work weekends, so she would do them voluntarily and give them all a break.

“Don’t have a life anyway,” she’d muttered to herself at the time, cutting open a new box of books to price, scan and stock.

Entering her apartment and stripping off her many layers while she turned on the small heater between her bed and the bathroom door, she kicked her pants aside as she reminded herself to fold them up later. Dropping her bra and underwear down beside them as she entered the small bathroom, the thin woman found herself silently thanking whatever god existed that her apartment had utilities included—which meant that she could climb into her shower and turn the hot water on for as long as she wanted without running up her bill.

Doing just that, Iris hunched down on the floor of her shower as hot water continued to beat down against her back. She never liked the colder seasons; her lack of fat content always meant that she felt more of a chill than most.

Once the tiles were warm enough, she sat down completely and began to tiredly run her fingers through her hair, pulling out the knots that were developing beneath the stream of water. The hot water helped to relax her tight muscles, all of the stress from the day seeming to finally begin to melt off of her. The tile of the wall was still cold when she leant back against it, letting the constant stream of water hit her legs as she looked down at the scattering of black words and silver scars.

Her thigh had one of the worst scars her body bore; it was to the point that two of the words were illegible when the scar was left to heal without stitches. Thankfully, she had read it and memorized it before her parents tried to take it from her.

She knew every single one of her marks off by heart, so no scar could take that from her.

It had once read, clearly and legibly in what appeared to be feminine writing, _Finally,_ I _get the light!_ Now, the beginning of _Finally_ was crossed through to the point of the letters indistinguishable and _light_ was marked up to the point that if she hadn’t known the word before it was ruined, she wouldn’t have been able to guess it.

As much as she loved her marks, and she wished that she could extend that love to her soulmates, she had always carried around the worries that she might be rejected for the destruction of her marks. Would her soulmate be offended to know that their mark on her was ruined? Would they not believe her because some were difficult to read?

Sighing deeply as she let her head fall to her knees, blocking out the sight of the ruined mark, Iris tried to stop the depressing train of thought and focus instead on the steady pulse in her ears alongside the rush of the hot water on her shoulders.

Minutes ticked by slowly as the soothing feeling of the hot water continued to pour down across her skin, washing away the stress and tension that had been building throughout the week. Eventually, the sound of the water faded into the background of her mind as she slumped boneless against the wall of the shower.

_“When did that one show up?”_

_The familiar shriek of her mother’s voice drew a strangled gasp from the young girl, spinning around so quickly that she almost slipped on the wet bathroom tiles and ended up getting slapped in the face by her long hair. In the doorway of the bathroom was her mother, the woman’s expression livid as she looked at the black writing that was now at the top of her spine;_ Good morning, dear, we haven’t met yet.

_Iris tried to back away from the look her mother was giving her, but the woman reached out and snatched her arm before she could get too far. “Well? When?”_

_“I-I dunno,” Iris answered honestly. She’d only just spotted it when she was getting out of her bath, she hadn’t made a point to look at her back that often. “Mom, please, I’m sorry!”_

_“Shut up!” Using the arm that she was still holding, Olivia Mayfair pulled her daughter clean off her feet and hauled her back to the bathtub that Iris had yet to drain. Shrieking in protest, Iris tried to fight against the iron grip on her bicep. “I am_ sick _of this!”_

_“No, no! Mom!” Iris’s cries of protest were silenced when she was pulled over the edge of the tub and pushed face first into the lukewarm water. Her hands scratched at the sides of the tub as the water closed in around her, rushing into her mouth and into her throat. Her body jerked desperately in an attempt to get free, but her mother switched her hold to her hair instead._

_Her throat burned from the water that had gone down it and she was trying not to couch and end up breathing in more, nails searching for something to dig into and pull herself up from the water. She struggled and pushed, when she suddenly felt the scratchy sensation of something abrasive against her skin, right where the newest soulmark had appeared._

_Her mother was trying to scrub it off of her skin._

_Even through the water, Iris could hear her mother shouting and cursing, the words too muddled to understand. The need for oxygen grew as the young girl tried to fight against the urge to cough and inhale, knowing that it would surely kill her. Her body continued to twitch as she held her breath, lungs and throat burning, before it became too much and Iris’s diaphragm trembled with a spasm, forcing her to inhale. Her feet kicked blindly on instinct, as though trying to swim through water that was not there._

_The rush of soapy, lukewarm water was immediate; pouring into her lungs like acid._

_A hand grasping her hair suddenly pulled, removing her from the water._

Iris bolted up in the shower with enough force to slam her head back against the tiles, her vision spotting as her abrupt returned to consciousness left her dizzy and disoriented. Her throated burned with the memory of the water going down, filling her lungs with foreign pain. The back of her skull throbbed where it had connected with the wall, but it wasn’t her main focus as the pale woman scrambled for the temperature controls, desperately turning them to the left to stop the flow of water as she gasped for air with ragged pants.

Suddenly, the warm shower was the last thing she wanted to be sitting in.

The only thing that prevented her from slipping on her bathroom floor was the bathmats that she had in front of the shower and sink, covering most of the minimal flooring. Snagging her towel and wrapping herself in the reassuring cloth, soft and dry, Iris fled from the bathroom in a desperate attempt to remove the pain and memories.

The small heater that she had turned on before entering the washroom had done its job, heating her small studio apartment to a comfortable degree, though not quite enough to entirely prevent her saturated skin and hair of chilling once free of the washroom. Unwrapping her body to instead use the towel on her hair, Iris stumbled over to her closet alcove and selected an oversized sweater from the hanger and old sweatpants from the shelves beneath.

She hadn’t thought of that particular moment in a long time. She was still very young when it showed up, perhaps five? She had already had several marks already, so that was just another reason for her parents to hate her. It got to the point that she did everything she could to make sure they weren’t aware when she did get a new mark. As far as she knew, they believed she was a monster with only twelve marks, because after that she made sure they were in the dark.

And they did not seem to mind that at all. Almost as though they could pretend it wasn’t getting worse if she kept it a secret.

Hanging her towel over the foot of her bed, Iris didn’t hesitate to crawl onto the too-soft mattress and curl up in her oversized clothing. One hand went to her neck absently, trying to forget the pain that had accompanied swallowing the water.

It wasn’t as though life had been much easier for her before, but it seems that since having contacted Dr. Fletcher, everything had become a million times more complicated.

Pulling the hood of her sweater over her head to cover her chilling hair, still soaked through, Iris began to hum quietly to herself. Call it her coping mechanism. Something that she had started as a child when she was terrified of her parents, she had begun to sing to herself whenever they would hurt her or scream at her. Even when they fought with one another and she could hear them, the shouting and suggested violence left her terrified that they could be coming for her next.

Putting her hands over her ears as she began to hum _F_ _ür Elise_ to herself, Iris began to picture in her mind all of the things that had changed; reminding herself that she was free from them and safe in her new life. She pictured her work, her coworkers that were kind to her, her apartment that was small but _hers_.

Then, against her will, a mental image of Barry came to mind as she pictured him grinning down at her after he had complimented her coat.

Her humming cut off abruptly and she opened her eyes, looking at the far wall in shock.

Was he something that she counted among the blessings of her new life?

There was a love that she carried around for her marks, but she’d spent so long thinking that she couldn’t meet her soulmates that she’d never taken the time to think about what that may be like. She’d assumed that it was twenty-three different people—physically—but if her soulmate really did have D.I.D then that would change all of her assumptions.

A guilty ache had been building in her chest for the past week, growing worse with every thought she had about the soulmate she from whom she had run. Having lived the life she had, raised as she had been, Iris had trouble understanding her own actions toward the stranger that she was destined to be with.

Groaning aloud as she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling instead of the wall, Iris knew that she wasn’t going to be sleeping much that night. It would just turn out the same as all the other nights thus far, with a few hours of struggled, broken sleep that provided no rest. A mind that refused to sleep. Her chest ached and her scars and marks seemed to burn with each thought.

Tonight would be the same, she knew.

Her stomach chose that moment to pinch painfully from lack of food, breaking Iris from her bleak thoughts and drawing her into a tired sitting position. That was another thing she needed to do very soon: grocery shopping. Thinking back, she knew that she had enough for two days if she was to really press into her supplies; like bread and mayo.

Thankfully, she at least had a dish of instant noodles left that she had been saving for a particularly crummy day.

Rolling reluctantly off of her bed, thankful for the mat that covered majority of her flooring to protect her bare feet from the chill, Iris snatched her kettle and moved to fill it with water so she could boil it while deciding that tea would be best to have with her food. She’d been trying different herbal blends all week but nothing helped her to sleep.

The sudden shriek of her cellphone caused her to drop the kettle abruptly. The clatter of it falling into the sink, water splashing up from the tumble, caused her to flinch and leap to turn off the water before more of a mess was created.

She turned sharply and scrambled for her phone while shaking water from her hands as she tried to ignore the wetness of the sleeves.

_Karen Fletcher._

A faint whimper escaped Iris at the sight of the doctor’s name. Sinking down to sit on the floor as the fatigue of the week returned to her bones, Iris closed her eyes for a moment before she blindly tapped at the screen.

When she opened her eyes to see which button had been pressed, she felt her heart lurch at the sight of her call screen in progress.

_“Miss. Mayfair? Are you there?”_

Wincing again, Iris lifted the phone to her ear so she could hear the older woman properly. “Yes, Dr. Fletcher, I’m here.”

“ _Iris, how are you? Is everything alright?_ ”

Hesitating a moment as she thought back to her reflection, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep and shoulders hunched down with weariness. “…I’m fine, doctor. Why?”

A soft sigh issued through the line, causing a frown to pinch at Iris’s brows. “ _Dear…I’m worried that the two of you are straining yourselves. Please, Iris, this is not healthy._ ”

“I know,” Iris breathed out, not even intended to answer but finding the tired words slipping through before she could catch them. “You…you said _two_. Is Barry okay?” Dr. Fletcher didn’t answer immediately, letting silence fill the line. The quiet didn’t do anything to assure the young woman as she jerked in panic from her place on the floor. “Doctor?”

“ _Barry is here with me now,_ ” Fletcher answered after a continued silence, her concern for the man evident in her tone. “ _He’s been having some trouble since you two met. It’s difficult for you as well, I’m sure,_ ” Fletched explained, her voice sounding slightly distracted. To think that Barry was there with Fletcher, probably seeking out someone to speak to or ask for help, made Iris’s eyes burn with repressed emotion. She had never felt more hate for herself than in that moment, knowing she was the cause of someone else’s pain.

Iris rubbed at her tired eyes for a moment to try and remove the sting of tears, shaking her head at herself. She really was a terrible person. “Has he been sleeping?”

_“No,_ ” Fletcher answered honestly, the word barely more than a whisper.

Drifting her hand down from her eyes to wipe down along her face, the action doing nothing to wake her or remove the ache from her actions. “Just…just wait. Just wait.”

Hanging up the phone before she could change her mind, Iris rushed over to turn off the burner on the stove and then the small heater by the bathroom. Her hair was still wet and un-brushed, tangled beneath her hood as she hurried through her small apartment to pull on her shoes and stuff her phone into the pocket of the overly large sweater. If she stopped to think she would second-guess herself and not do it; she would become a coward and back into the corner to reprimand herself for another stupid decision.

No. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. No more running away.

Running from her problems was something she had done since she was young enough to learn that it was the only way. This was different; Barry and her other soulmates _weren’t_ a problem. They weren’t meant to be a cause of fear or distress. That was unfortunately something that just developed in her mind over time.

Locking her apartment door behind her, Iris didn’t even take a moment to realize that her hand and wrist marks were visible as she rushed down the street in distress, the darkness of the evening far from her mind. Her eyes were wide and she was paler than normal, drawing some startled stares from the few people lingering on the streets.

For once, she didn’t care.


	4. Finding Balance

Barry sat somewhat uncomfortably in the seat that he normally occupied when he was visiting Dr. Fletcher; it was usually a place that he took comfort with relaxing in, but this time he was too on edge to be able to do that. He had come to Dr. Fletcher when he had struggled through a day of work at the zoo. He hadn't been right since Iris had run off; even the other alters were having trouble sleeping and focusing throughout their days.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I gotta go," Barry called suddenly, hearing Fletcher shuffling around in the other room. She'd stepped out a while before and he'd heard her speaking with someone on the phone, but then she'd come back in and had tried to offer him food and drinks, maybe a tea that might help relax him. When she left again, once more dialing someone on the phone, Barry was left with his thoughts.

He'd been fighting against the urge to go out and find Iris for the past week while maintaining his steady hours at work and letting the other alters take the light on their off time. He hadn't been sleeping and even the others who had been in the light since then were much the same—not as bad, but still disrupted and draining.

Rising from his chair to leave as he tucked his hands into his pockets, he could barely hear Fletcher as she rushed back toward him, trying to call him back inside. Barry pushed the sound of her voice into the back of his mind, rushing down the first flight of stairs with such speed that the coat he had on billowed behind him as though caught on the wind.

He didn't blame the psychiatrist; she'd done her best to help him through everything, but there was nothing that an outsider could do to ease the struggles of an incomplete soulbond. She had tried, and he was thankful that she was there for him even if she couldn't help him this time. Her words and encouragement were amazing when it came to the situation of him and the other alters, as well as Kevin, but this situation was out of her reach.

Thinking back to his first glimpse of Iris, caught by surprise when she'd opened the door to see him on the other side; he'd been amazed by the soft colour of her eyes. A mix of amber and brown, soft like water but strong like whiskey. Her skin was pale as snow and looked like it would be made of porcelain if he touched it. She was beautiful. But she was afraid. Immediately after he'd spoken, the look that had overcome her eyes made his heart drop.

Had it not been for Dr. Fletcher's assurances he would have continued to assume that it was his fault; she just didn't want him. Thankfully, that had not been the case. She had just been afraid due to her own past.

Turning on the last landing of the stairs to finish the steps to the front door, Barry stopped so suddenly that his feet nearly slid out from under him.

Iris stood at the base of the stairs with one foot on the first step, wide eyes focused upward where he was standing. She was in barely more than old grey sweats, stained and covered in accidental bleach spots, and an oversized sweater that hung loose around her neck and down to mid-thigh. Her hood was up, but he could see that her hair was darkened and wet, twisted and pulled over one shoulder to dampen the material of her sweater.

She looked worse than him

Her pale skin was nearly transparent and her eyes had deep bruises beneath them. She looked like she'd been awake since the moment she'd left Fletcher's building. Where her hand was resting on the banister, he could see the black writing of one of her soulmarks encircling the bone.

"Iris," he breathed out in shock.

The time apart had made her ill; that much was obvious. He was able to rely on the strength of the others over the week, but she had been on her own.

Her lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out as she continued to stare up at him in something akin to awe. However, he could see even from where he was standing when her eyes watered with the overwhelming emotion. Barry could only imagine what he looked like to her, the both of them thoroughly exhausted and strung out.

"Barry..." the soft whimper barely registered to his hearing, but he could see her lips when they mouthed his name. "I'm _so_ sorry."

Rushing down the steps, Barry wrapped her tiny form in his arms before she could even step onto even ground again. As soon as his arms came around her the tense muscles of her shoulders relaxed, slumping against him like dead weight. Her head barely came beneath his chin and when he wrapped his arms around her to hold her closer she felt like she was barely there.

His chin had pushed her hood from her head, letting him rest against her damp hair as the smell of soap rose to his senses, her body chilled from her journey to Fletcher's building in the dark. He could feel when her arms slipped around his torso beneath his coat, taking in his warmth as she leaned against him in fatigue and assurance.

"I'm sorry I ran away," she mumbled softly, her words barely audible enough to be heard over his own pounding heart.

"That's okay. Everything's okay," he assured quietly, shifting to rest his cheek against the top of her head. The hollow pain in his chest began to ease as he hold onto her, the closeness of his soulmate healing the ache from her running away. "You're okay."

"I hurt you," she whimpered faintly, pulling back from him only enough to look up at him with watery eyes. "I didn't want you to hurt." Her pale, thin hands came to rest against his cheeks as her thumbs ghosted beneath his eyes. His skin was soft there, but she could see that there was texture to his cheeks and jaw from years of shaving. He knew that she was touching the bruises that mirrored her own, though he could already see that hers were far worse.

His hands came to frame her face as he looked at her properly for the first time. Her cheeks were thin and her cheekbones were sharp, making her whiskey eyes look so wide in comparison. She was so slender, fragile and delicate, and her skin was cool to the touch when his hands framed her face. When she swallowed, her throat and jaw worked with the movement as muscles and tendons shifted beneath his hands. He hadn't noticed before, but she had the faintest trace of freckles on her nose.

"I'm not alone," Barry soothed, "We had each other. But you...you were alone."

Having his words confirm what she already knew, Iris closed her eyes while leaning into his touch.

He was warm. So warm. When she had leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him, she had felt the muscle that was masked beneath the thick layers of his clothing. It made her want to hold onto him and not let go. There was security in his arms, which was a concept that was sadly new to her. "I promise, Iris, you won't be alone anymore." She looked up at him when he spoke again, doubt hidden very faintly in her expression. No offence was taken when he saw it, knowing from experience that it was hard to trust after having _family_ break that trust.

"Twenty three," she whispered, holding the steady stare of his soft blue eyes. They widened fractionally when she said the number before flicking down to her wrist, the black writing still lining the joint. He couldn't see the words clear enough form this perspective, but he knew that it was a soulmark for one of the alters. "Is that how many there are?"

"Yes," he answered honestly, nodding against her hands. "Kevin had a...difficult childhood. We were born to keep him safe."

"Kevin," she mumbled, testing the name. "So, he was the original personality?"

"Yes, Kevin Crumb. The rest of us came to be over time, when he needed us the most. We were there to keep him safe from the life that he once lived. We keep him safe even now." As he spoke, his fingers caressed her hollow cheeks, down the delicate line of her throat and jaw. "He is too fragile for this world."

She had suspected that Barry, and therefore all the other alters, had lived a difficult life. It was the reason they existed. But to have it said aloud, confirming her suspicions and the small hints that Fletcher had offered over the phone, broke her heart

"And you," he continued, "I don't want this world to break you."

Iris couldn't help the smile that faintly touched her lips when he confessed that, the burn of tears increasing until a simple blink brought it cascading down her cheek. Barry immediately swiped it away, the moisture collecting in the palm of his fingerless gloves. "I am stronger than I look," she assured while trying to fight back anymore tears. "The marks...all of your words...they made me strong."

Withdrawing her hands from him, she stepped back to put space between them and began sliding her right sleeve up. There were scatterings of marks along her forearm, but it was the mark encircling her bicep that drew his eyes. The words that he said to her a week before were messy against her skin, his writing more scratchy from the sketchy way he drew. It was definitely his writing.

Reaching for her arm, pausing long enough to meet her eyes for permission, Barry gently traced his words with his thumb as he took her thin arm in his hand. By do so he came to realize, as well, that she was thin but she was not as delicate as she appeared. Her biceps had a decent amount of muscle definition—she was still terribly thin when comparing her to his own size, but she wasn't as unhealthy as he had feared.

"I am sorry I ran away from you, Barry. I've never regretted something more...but I was scared to come back."

Barry frowned as he gently released her bicep, letting his hands lower until they took hers in a gentle hold. Soft. Her hands were so soft. He hadn't noticed that when she was touching his face; though he had known that her fingers held a distinct chill. From the cool spring air, he hoped, and not because of a health problem.

"What were you afraid of?"

Iris let out a sound that was a mix between a sob and laugh. "I was afraid _you'd_ turn _me_ away. I wasn't sure if Fletcher was right...about a soulmark for each personality. I was worried you would turn me away once you found out about the other twenty-two marks." Shaking her head at her own thoughts, realizing now the absolute ridiculousness of her running away—she'd done what she was afraid would be done to her. "And what was done to my marks."

Barry's hands briefly clenched hers. Fletcher had mentioned a scar through one of her marks. Looking down to her arm as he gently turned it, Iris seemed to realize what he was looking for and released his hand to push up her other sleeve as well, turning her arm so that he could see the long scar running down through the mark on the outside of her arm. _He's told us about you, little one, he really likes you._ Barry ran his thumb along the scar as rage for her parents welled in his chest.

He wasn't normally angered by such things, and when he was angered he normally had a better hold on his emotions, but this was...inhuman.

Lifting her arm up, Barry pressed a kiss against the kiss against the scar. "I promise, Iris, that there is nothing you could do, or have done, to turn us away."

Iris's battle with her emotions tipped out of her favour when her tears began to flow more freely from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks as the worry and doubt bled away. Barry pulled her sleeves back down as the chill from the entranceway brought forth his concern for her, wanting her to be warm. Then he gently coaxed her back into his embrace so as not to spook her; she immediately buried her face in his chest to hide her tears while her arms wound around his torso.

"Hey, wanna go get coffee or something? I mean, I wanna get to know you better but I understand if you want to go and get some sleep. You look like you've had a hell of a week," Barry proposed as his chin came to rest comfortably against the top of her head.

The vibrations of his voice helped to soothe her, feeling and hearing his words at the same time.

She was the perfect height in comparison to him. Short to his tall, lean to his muscled, quiet to his boisterous. He'd never quite been able to picture what his soulmate would look like, sound like, or even behave like. Yet, now that he had listened to her speak and taken in each detail about her that he could, he couldn't have pictured anything more accurate.

He couldn't wait for the others to meet her; she was perfect for them. And he knew that as shy and timid as she was now, there were many of them that would do everything they could to draw out the true Iris—the one that had hidden away to protect herself from whoever had caused those scars. And others would be more than happy to be quiet and subdued alongside her, basking in similar introvert qualities.

Iris's arms tightened around him before she freed one of them to properly wipe her face of tears, majority having already soaked into Barry's shirt. Not that he minded. "I'm off all weekend; plenty of time to sleep later. Coffee sounds great."

Neither took notice of Dr. Fletcher standing just out of view on the landing above them, smiling faintly at the knowledge that the two would be okay.

Exiting the building allowed for the wind and cold air to returned to Iris's awareness, prompting her to pull her hood up to cover her damp hair. "I don't usually go to cafes, so I hope you know one?" she posed quietly.

"Uh...yea, I think I know one around here. Dunno if it's still open, though," Barry admitted bashfully. Iris couldn't help but to smile as she nodded her head, letting him lead the way. They were heading in the direction of her apartment, so she at least knew they would be close to home. Thinking back, though, she only knew of one café in this area and it was one she passed often while on her way to work. She'd always just made her own coffee or tea to bring to work, instead of stopping to buy one.

"So...what do you do?" Iris asked first, deciding that they had to start the conversation somewhere and she wasn't interested in walking in awkward silence the entire way.

"For work? Or as a hobby?" Barry asked in return while glancing at her briefly, stepping closer to her as another couple passed them to head in the opposite direction. He was relieved to see that she didn't flinch when he stepped closer to her, so she was at least somewhat comfortable with his presence. He had a feeling that it was most likely because of the soulmark—them being together had hopefully appeased it.

"Both, I guess."

"Well, I'm a manager at the Philadelphia Zoo," he answered immediately, pride colouring his tone as he tucked his hands into his pockets. He had the urge to reach out and loop Iris's arm through his, but her own hands had slipped into the large pocket of her sweater to keep them warm. "Personally, though, I love art and fashion. I've been designing things for a while, sketching out what comes to mind."

"Really? Have you ever created your designs?" Iris asked curiously as she thought back to the scratchy way he wrote. Now that she knew he was artistic she could make the connection with art sketches she'd seen in the past.

Barry sucked in his bottom lip as he shook his head. "Nah, maybe later but right now I just...enjoy the process of drawing them out. I guess you could say it's my...stress reliever? Like how some people have diaries or journals? I've usually only shown my drawings to some of the others, and Dr. Fletcher, or course."

"I can understand that," Iris responded in understanding, noticing the way his expression lightened when he brought up art. "I suppose that makes _my_ stress reliever music. When I was a kid, I would love to hum songs that I knew and when I got older I took some lessons with instruments and singing. Never really used them to perform, though."

The two stopped at an intersection as Barry tapped the button to cross, leaving them to wait as the wind blew hard around the corner of the building. Iris hunched against the cold, tucking her arms close to her sides as her hands fisted in her pocket. Barry's keen attention for detail noticed the slight changes and quickly stepped back to shake the coat off his shoulders and down his arms; Iris watched in surprise for a moment before she realized his intention and opened her mouth to stop him.

"No, take it," he insisted, swinging the coat around her shoulders. Her arms weren't in the sleeves, but it was large enough that it draped over her like a cape. "You're too skinny; nothin' to keep you warm!"

"Thank you," she answered quietly, pulling the coat closed in front of her as the crosswalk sign turned to walk.

They quickly crossed the street and kept heading straight, closer still to Iris's apartment building. "So, what do you do?" Barry continued their previous conversation, swinging it around on her. "Other than music," he added on before she could reply.

Iris could pick up easily that he had a very social, extraverted personality. For him to have been so calm and patient with her, even up until that moment, made her heart pick up slightly. "I'm a manager at a bookstore," she started. "I...I didn't finish school, so I kind of use books to teach myself whatever I wanted to learn. I've always loved to read and when I started part-time at a bookstore it was like a dream. I've been there for ten years now." It was slightly embarrassing to admit that she hadn't finished school; the only people who knew that were her bosses, but they didn't mind since they hadn't finished it either when they were young.

"Got a library of your own at home?" Barry asked teasingly, drawing a laugh from Iris.

"I wish; if I had the space, I definitely would. I'm just in a little studio, but I get plenty of books at work to tide me over."

Barry was listening so attentively to her that he nearly missed the café they were walking passed, but both he and Iris jerked to a stop at the same time when the smell of coffee drifted to them from the opening door as a young woman stepped out in a hurry. "Oh...we're here."

The bashfulness in his tone caused Iris to smile, following him as he stepped up to catch the door before it closed. Pulling it open and stepping aside, Barry smile as he waved her in first. "Thanks," she mumbled with a nod of her head, stepping into the small, homey café that was filled with the aroma of coffee and pastries. Barry followed quickly behind her, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly at his easy distraction.

Iris moved to one of the tables further to the back of the room, away from the door and windows. She smiled politely to the woman behind the counter who was already moving out from around the counter as Barry followed Iris over to the table. "Do you know what you want?" she asked while glancing between the two of them with a smile.

"Do you serve decaf here?" Iris asked first, knowing that coffee wouldn't be a good idea when she was already so sleep deprived.

The waitress's smile wavered slightly. "Sorry, we used to but it wasn't very popular so we stopped ordering it. We have a large selection of teas, though."

"Chamomile?" Iris inquired, relieved to see the smile return to the woman's face. "I'll have a large tea, then." As she was speaking, Iris carefully pulled Barry's coat off of her shoulders and gently draped it over the back of her chair.

Nodding as she mentally made note, the woman then glanced over to Barry. "And for you?"

"Do you have Chai tea?"

"We do indeed. Large as well?" Barry smile charismatically as he nodded. "Alright, I'll have those to you in a moment. Will you need any creams or sugars?" Iris and Barry exchanged looks with one another, shaking their heads before they looked to the waitress and repeated the action. Leaving them to their own as the two took a seat at the table that Iris had selected, she immediately began preparing their drinks with practiced ease.

Iris folded her hands nervously in her lap as she glanced between Barry's focused eyes and the clean tabletop. "I walk passed this place every day on my way to work; never actually gone in, though."

"Really?" Barry asked with mild surprise. "What's the name of the bookstore?"

"'Pages of the World'," she answered easily, noting the moment a look of recognition came to his eyes. "You know it?"

A broad smile lit his features as he nodded. "Yea, I've been in there. I can't believe I've never run into you before! To think, you've been so close all this time. You guys sell sketchbooks for a good price, that's usually where I go."

The soft, nostalgic way in which he spoke caused Iris's stomach to flutter. "Can't rush fate—that's what I've been told, anyway." Barry's attention was drawn down to where she had shifted her hands in her lap, unconsciously beginning to run her fingers along the writing atop her palm. He forced himself to look away before he tried to identify the writing. That wasn't for him to see—they were not his words, therefore they were for someone else. One of the other alters.

"We've met now, so that's what counts. Nothing to rush anymore."


	5. Soft Tones in Which to Whisper

Barry made sure that Iris was wrapped tightly in his jacket when they left the café, her second cup of tea cradled between her hands to keep her palms warm. Her arms were through the sleeves this time, making her look absolutely tiny with how much she had to bunch it at the wrists to free her hands. Barry had also been able to slip her arm through his before she could stick it in her pocket, so she was pressed close to his side as they made their way in the direction of her apartment building.

Barry and the others had walked this street many times, but they’d never realized that their soulmate was so close. She lived between where he lived and where Dr. Fletcher’s office was located, a comfortable walking distance between both. It made him wonder if that was the fate of the soulmark at work. Was she drawn to where he lived and instinctively moved close?

A particularly strong gust of wind nearly blew Iris’s hood back but Barry was sure to catch it before it could expose her now-dry hair. He’d already finished his tea at the previous intersection, throwing in into the overflowing garbage can that was near the street-lamp.

“Thanks,” she stuttered, shivering against the cold that went down her neck. His coat definitely helped, however, so she wasn’t nearly as cold as she could have been. “I didn’t really think before I left my apartment. Fletcher had called me and when I found out you were there, and you were struggling as bad as me…”

“I don’t hold it against you,” Barry assured. The smile that he offered made her heart flutter softly, clutching her cup a bit tighter between her hands. “You were worried about me?”

“Yea,” she admitted, nodding against the urge to duck her head down in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. “I hated that I knew you weren’t sleeping and it was because of me.” A strong shiver wracked through her body, causing her entire body to tremble against his. “So I kinda ran out without a coat…”

His smile remained endearing as he gently tugged her arm to draw her in closer, feeling when she rested her head on his bicep. “Well I’m touched,” he teased while she tipped her head enough that it was still resting on his arm but she could look up at him. “Are we close?” he asked calmly, turning to look around them. It was late enough that there was no one else out—even the road was empty of cars.

“Yea, right through the intersection,” she answered while motioning ahead of them. “See the three story white brick building? I’m on the top floor, far right.”

Barry looked over the building that she was pointing at. It wasn’t anything fancy or expensive looking. The building had probably been there for as long as the city was around—he was pretty sure the walls were more paint than brick at this point. However, he also knew from the short hours that he and Iris had been talking, she was simple and easily pleased. She didn’t want anything fancy or expensive, and comfort was found as long as it was her own space.

“How long have you lived there?”

Iris’s lips pursed as she quickly backtracked the time she had spent in that apartment. “Just over three years this summer. The previous place I was in was great, but the landlord kept raising my rent more and more and eventually I couldn’t afford it. So I left.”

“How much are you paying for this place? If you don’t mind me asking.” Barry tapped the walk signal when they reached the intersection, able to see the building more clearly from the new vantage.

“Eight-hundred, all inclusive,” she answered honestly, sounding slightly proud of herself. “I was almost at eleven-hundred at the previous place and it was almost the same size, so I’m rather happy with this one.” Barry was relieved to know that she wasn’t being too overcharged for her place, but he knew that small studio apartments were always more than they were really worth.

He was definitely relieved to be where he was, especially since there was enough space for each of the alters to have a room of their own. That thought made him wonder about bringing Iris over to the Zoo sometime soon, but he knew that he should wait for her to meet some of the others first. She knew they existed and she seemed okay with the idea, but it was very different to know something in theory than be faced with it in reality.

Once they had crossed the intersection to get to Iris’s building, Barry found himself growing more and more reluctant to let her go. “I live just down that way,” Barry started abruptly, motioning in the direction they had been heading all evening, passed Iris’s apartment. “It’s…a bit of a peculiar place to live, but we need a certain set-up for all of us, ya know?”

“Peculiar?” Iris repeated as her face scrunched up faintly in thought. What exactly did peculiar entail?

“Yea…” Barry sudden quieted, not wanting to bring it up. What kind of place to live was the old basement of a zoo? If not for Dennis that place probably wouldn’t even be considered sanitary or liveable. “I mean, it’s not any regular apartment, and we don’t really have enough money for a house that would fit everyone, so-”

Iris interrupted his rambling softly with a call of his name, “Barry.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, still warm from her tea even though the cool wind had been battling against her bare skin. “I’ve lived my whole life with a ‘peculiar’ set-up. Believe me, I’ve come to live with a very…open mind.”

“I…really?” Barry breathed in relief, letting his shoulders relax as he leaned into her touch ever so gently. Iris smiled up at him at the action, her whiskey eyes looking like amber beneath the streetlight. Her thumb stroked against his cheek gently to further calm him, while she openly stared up at him with surprising adoration.

Looking down at her now, he truly did want to do nothing more than protect her; to shield her from the world that they had been brought into—a world that was too much for Kevin. Wrapped in his large coat, her hand barely visible as it cradled her cup to her chest, the other continuing to caress his cheekbone, she looked so tiny and frail.

“Do you-” Iris began but stopped suddenly, almost as though she was second-guessing herself. Shaking her head, an action that told him she was trying to dispel bad thoughts, she continued, “Would you like to come up? I think it’s time I was completely honest as well.”

As though to stop her, Barry’s hand came up to clasp the one resting on his cheek and held her in place. “What do you mean, completely honest?”

“I haven’t lied to you,” she assured, knowing how her words must have come across. “But…I assume Dr. Fletcher brought some things up that she knew about me and I feel I should be as open with you as you have with me. You told me the truth about the other identities—the other marks—and about Kevin and how you all came to be in order to keep him safe. I only want to return the favour, and be open with you in return.”

Using the hand that Barry was holding, Iris turned and gently tugged him after her. Of course he could have stopped her if he was opposed to the idea, but in complete honesty he was just glad that they didn’t have to part ways just yet. So, instead, he let her lead him into the building. It was relieving to see that the front door was locked, Iris only releasing his hand to briefly turn the lock before she had reclaimed it and was guiding him to the stairs. Once they were in the stairwell, away from the doors of the other tenants, she explained quietly that the building didn’t have an elevator.

In turn, he had commented that it was no wonder she was so skinny.

She didn’t release his hand until they had arrived to her floor, pulling out her keys once more as she quietly opened the door to her own apartment. Slipping in as though trying to hide something, she looked mildly hesitant when she glanced back at him before she offered a shy smile and stepped aside.

Having Barry enter her apartment only made the small studio look even tinier. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe bordering on six feet, but he was still much taller than her and he was more than twice as broad. Her apartment wasn’t too cold, but Iris almost immediately moved to turn on her little heater just to be extra certain. Once the faint hum of the heater filled the space, Iris turned to look over to Barry to gauge his reaction.

His attention was away from her for the moment, looking around the small space. Upon entering, her bed was only a few feet away and the kitchen sat a few feet across from the foot of the bed, one step up to elevate it from the ‘bedroom’. The closet-alcove was to the right of the entrance—the kitchen to the left—and the bathroom was on the opposite side of the bed on the wall the headboard was pressed against. Two small windows allowed her to look out onto the street they had just been on, sealed tight and always locked.

“I know it’s not much—it’s absolutely tiny, really—but it’s home,” she mumbled while setting her cup onto the nearest counter and began to pull off Barry’s jacket.

“It suits you,” he answered in complete honestly, looking away from her simple kitchen to offer her a smile instead. “Where I live may be bigger, but I do share it with twenty-two others, so…”

Iris smiled in relief at his acceptance as her heart calmed. “Well, uhm…I don’t suppose you want another tea?” When Barry laughed and shook his head, Iris flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. She’d been prepared to make him anything if he asked for it—she wasn’t accustomed to having company over. “Well, you can get comfortable? Look around?” she offered, motioning to her sparse belongings. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Turning into the bathroom and quickly shutting the door, Iris took a moment to calm herself.

She’d met her soulmate.

She’d gone back for him.

And now he was standing in her apartment.

Knowing that if she stopped she was going to overthink everything, Iris just turned away from the door and barely glanced at her reflection on her way into the room. She hadn’t properly wiped off her makeup from work so the black of her mascara and eyeliner had run down to make the shadows worse beneath her eyes, and her hair was an absolute mess from not having been brushed.

Instead of bothering to make herself presentable after having been with him as she was for so many hours, Iris just wiped her fingers beneath her eyes to remove excess makeup, and pulled her long hair into a tail over her shoulder.

Washing her hands and taking one brief moment to collect herself, Iris unlocked the door and stepped out. Barry was now standing in her kitchen as he looked at the wall of teas that she had been accumulating—majority of which were new from the past week of no sleep. He turned to look at her when he heard the door open and pointed to the display in front of him.

“ _That’s_ a lot of tea,” he commented in awe, getting a laugh from Iris that she tried desperately to smother and only ended up snorting through her nose. That only made Barry laugh as he looked at her sheepish face endearingly.

“I was hoping an herbal tea would help me sleep, so I went a bit overboard,” she admitted with a timid shrug, tugging on the hem of her large sweater. “You sure you don’t want one?” she asked again, however, he declined again. Instead, he politely excused himself to the washroom as Iris moved to the kitchen to take the kettle out of the sink from where she had dropped in when Fletcher called earlier.

It had only been a few hours but somehow it felt like days since the setback she had in the shower, and since Fletcher had spooked her into dropping the kettle. It also brought to her attention that she hadn’t eaten dinner. However, the distraction of everything had her forgetting all about her hunger. The tea had at least filled her enough that her stomach wasn’t a bother.

She had just placed her keys and cellphone on the counter when Barry stepped out of the washroom. Iris only gave a brief glance in her peripheral as he was stepping out, but she had to turn for a full look when she realized he had removed his gloves and beanie while he was in there. The sight of his closely buzzed hair, so close to being shaved that she figured it was probably just growing out. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to be under the beanie, but somehow she couldn’t picture him with any other style than that.

Barry noticed the stare she had on his head and reached up to self-consciously rub at it. The prickly texture was something he was still getting used to, having shaved it for so long. “Not the smartest hair-style for winter, huh?”

His comment made Iris realize that she had been staring and guilt tugged at her gut. “Maybe not, but it suits you,” she assured with a smile. “And it’s a good thing you look good with a beanie.”

The unsure posture that Barry was standing with disappeared with her comment, the easy-going smiling coming back. “So, you wanted to be completely honest?” he prodded gently, returning their earlier conversation to the forefront. Iris was relieved that he had, otherwise she probably would have lost the nerve and tried to dance around the subject.

Motioning for him to sit on the bed, which was the only place _to_ sit since she had no table or chairs, Iris joined him once she had kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs under her. “I said earlier that I hadn’t finished school,” she began, getting an encouraging nod from Barry when he remembered that particular comment. She’d been scared when she’d said it, he realized, but he would never judge her for that. “It’s because I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I had to get away from my parents, so I just left.”

Barry’s hands clenched against the gloves he was holding, causing the tendons to pop out against the backs of his palms.

“I lived on the streets for a bit, saving all the money I could and working odd jobs. Most of the time I stayed in shelters. When I was eighteen, I worked really hard to get a permanent job so I could find a place to live. At first I worked as a hostess in a restaurant, but the people were so rude that I left. That’s when I applied for Pages of the World, and I’ve been there ever since.”

Barry’s throat felt raw when he spoke up, “You didn’t have a home?” he forced out, hating how the words made his chest ache.

Iris reached out to take his hands in hers gently while coaxing the death grip he had on his gloves to relax. “For two years, no, I had no home. But I learned a lot in that time. My parents taught me to love my marks, because nothing they could do would ever take them from me; and being out on the streets taught me to love and cherish the few things I had. That’s why a tiny apartment with one good coat and some overpriced tea leaves is all I really need.”

He released his gloves to turn his hands over and take her hands within his, letting his large hands cradle the small, delicate fingers that had tenderly brushed along his skin.

“You said you lived somewhere peculiar, so all of you could have space. I’ve shared bunks with girls younger than me, who ran from homes far worse than mine. I’ve slept in alleys before—and that did not always end well. But, again, I learned from it.”

Thinking back to the time she had spent on the street, as brief as it may have been, made Iris’s eyes burn with tears as memories flooded her mind. She had good memories of people she had met and things she had accomplished, but just like with her parents there were always things to tarnish the good memories—but only if she let them. Some things stuck around—she was still afraid of entering a room with a door too wide open because of the fear that someone will force themselves in behind her, or that her marks would be seen and she’d be chased across town by the unmarked.

Barry immediately caught on to the glistening of her eyes, instantly knowing that they were unshed tears. Releasing her hands to instead take her into his arms like he had in Fletcher’s building, Barry softly shushed her as he shuffled in close to her body. “It’s alright, Sweetheart, ain’t nothing gunna get you now. You’ve got us on your side, and we protect our own.”

Iris released a laughing sob as she nodded against his shoulder, but remained leaned in close. Barry didn’t seem to mind what-so-ever and continued to hold her close as he rocked her from side to side, continuing to whisper assurances against her hair and into her ear. She shook faintly against his body as she leaned into him, her breath hot against the side of his neck as she tried to regulate her breathing to calm herself down.

Breathing in Barry’s smell as she leaned against him to take in his warmth, Iris came to realize why so many people seemed to change entirely after they had met their soulmate. There was a shift in everything. The world faded back and they came to find the relaxation of having their destined other half there.

Iris had never felt calmer or more welcome than when she was being held by Barry, and she was sure that when she met the other identities it would be the same. Although she assumed they would all offer her different types of comfort; they would each offer her what they were meant to give.

Barry could feel when she began to relax again, her steady breaths offering her a reprieve as she leaned heavily against him. She felt as though she weighed nothing, so it was easy when Barry manoeuvred the two of them down to lay on the mattress with their heads hitting the soft pillows. Iris didn’t react immediately, but she soon curled into him until her head was tucked beneath his chin once more.

“Will you stay?” she asked sleepily a few minutes later, lying nearly limp against him.

Barry, who was feeling the same lure of sleep, gave a sleepy smile against her hair as he nodded. “Couldn’t chase me away, Sweetheart.”

“Good,” she mumbled, sounding as though she was just barely on the cusp of awareness. “Because I already messed up once.”


	6. When I Wake

Waking up was a slow process for Iris—at least, this time it was. Usually, she would wake to her alarm and immediately get out of bed before she could allow herself to fall asleep. However, this morning was different. Her mind gradually rose from a foggy dream that she was already forgetting, the warmth in which she was waking up to much different than her average morning. Had she forgotten to turn off her heater through the night? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing softly and curling up in a tighter ball, Iris frowned slightly when her forehead pushed into something warm and firm. Pressing her forehead against it more firmly, she couldn’t bring to mind anything that was usually in her bed-

_Oh_

Hitching her breath as her eyes flew open to land on a dark grey sweater made of soft wool; Iris remembered the feeling of Barry’s arms wrapped around her as they settled down against her mattress. Drawing her forehead away from what she assumed was Barry’s upper chest, near his collarbone, Iris forced herself to look up to his face.

How he had slept through her moving and pushing against him amazed her, but Barry was still sleeping deeply when she looked up at him. The sound of his breaths was faint, not enough to qualify as a snore, and his lips were barely parted enough for her to see the white tips of his teeth. They had both been rather tense the night before, but Barry had spent a good portion of it with a smile brightening his features. To see him now with a completely relaxed look on his face was so different from that which she had become accustomed.

Shifting carefully, Iris pulled herself up and away so that she could rest her head on the other pillow as she looked over his soft features quietly. She wasn’t sure how old Barry was, but her guess the night before had been near the same age as her—nearing his thirties. Now, he easily looked to be early to mid-twenties.

Before she even realized it she was smiling again, thinking back to how well things had gone the night before. She was admittedly surprised to have woken up before him, but she was sure he was more tired than he had let on. Shifting again to prop herself up on one elbow, Iris resisted the urge to reach out for him in favour to knowing that he was getting well deserved sleep. As much as she wished to sleep as well, to join him once more, she knew that she would not be able to resume her rest as easily as the night before.

Her mind was not only awake, but running a mile a minute as she came to realize that her soulmate was in her bed and she had no idea the etiquette of having any kind of house guest.

She didn’t even have any food.

Biting her lip nervously for a moment, Iris glanced over to her small kitchen. She was only a few minutes away from the café she and Barry had gone to the night before; if she was to hurry, she could possibly go and get breakfast for the two of them before he woke up. Glancing down at the slumbering man once more, Iris decided it would be best to slip out as quickly as possible.

He had paid for their teas the night before, insisting to the point that he snagged the card Iris had been intending to pay with and held it hostage until the woman who had served them handed back his change with a giggle at their behaviour. She figured that this could be her way of paying him back.

So, the small woman slipped from the bed as silently as she could and moved over to the heater that had been on all night—thankfully on low, otherwise she might have roasted them both if it had been on high. Slipping into the bathroom quickly, it was less than two minutes later that she was sneaking out her apartment with a short note left on the bed in case he woke up while she was gone.

She truly hoped that he slept until she returned; she felt strange having someone wake up in her apartment when she’s not even there.

Jogging down the stairs effectively removed majority of the sleep-haze that remained around her mind—the rest disappeared when she stepped out into the rather frigid morning air. Glancing at her phone told her it was barely past seven in the morning, which explained why there was only a steady amount of people on the streets already.

She knew that the closer it got to eight, the more people would be up and on their way in to work. Hoping to beat the rush, she sped-walked to the café; this also helped to keep her warm in the chilly morning, as well as cut down on the time that it would take to return to Barry. Thankfully, luck seemed to be on her side that particular morning when she stepped into the café with only two people in front of her.

The downside was that she had no idea what to get for food since she wasn’t sure what Barry would like to eat. So, she went with the safe option and get two plain bagels that were toasted with butter, two muffins—one blueberry and the other chocolate chip—and two chai teas. The lady behind the counter was a different woman from the night before, so Iris didn’t have to worry about being recognized and possibly judged as she paid for her things and stepped aside to wait.

The café was efficient enough that she was barely there long enough for the bagels to be properly toasted before she was handed a bag and tray that carried her spoils for the morning. Immediately rushing out the door to head back to her apartment, Iris briefly glanced at the clock they had over the counter on her way out to confirm that she had only been gone for ten minutes. Hopefully Barry would still be sleeping when she got back.

People noticed her loaded arms on her way along the street and helpfully stepped out of her way, which surprised Iris. She usually spent her walks with her head downward, so she never really thought that people were considerate enough that they moved out of her way when they saw she needed space. Arriving at her building with only slightly laboured breath, the small woman balanced the bag against her side and the tray in one hand in order to unlock the door to her building. It took a bit of struggling, but she eventually got it and with no spilling of teas or food.

The trip up the stairs, however, was taken much more slowly than the trip down them.

Planning ahead this time, she carefully manoeuvred the bag of food between the arm holding the tray and her torso so she wasn’t as obscured while unlocking her apartment door. Entering as quietly as possible, she focused on the view that was revealed to her as the door swung open. Upon landing on the bed, she breathed a sigh of relief seeing Barry still sleeping while her note lay untouched on the free side of her bed.

Closing and locking the door, Iris then moved over to carefully place the tray and food down—quietly was a bit of a stretch, since the bag was paper and it was nearly impossible not to make noise as she shifted and moved to put it down. Perhaps she hadn’t planned so far ahead.

However, another glance to the bed told her that Barry was either entirely exhausted or slept like a _rock_.

Smiling in amusement, she was then left with the decision of waking him. She knew that waiting would only make it more awkward, especially if he woke up to her just sitting silently as she waited for him. Probably not the best impression to make while so early into their…relationship? Was it a relationship?

Shaking her head, Iris knew that those kinds of thoughts were best left for later, when she didn’t have to worry about waking up the subject of her thoughts.

Moving over to the bed, she gently climbed back onto the mattress while careful not to shift it too much as she sat next to Barry. Her attention returned to the peaceful expression he wore before her hand moved to gently lie upon one cheek. Even though his cheek had been freshly shaved the night before, it was now beginning to grow rough with stubble.

“Barry,” she called softly, stroking one thumb along his cheekbone. “Barry, wake up,” she called again in a louder tone, using her other hand to lie on his chest and give it a firm shake. “Either wake up or I’m going to hold your breakfast hostage,” she threatened playfully, once more pushing against his chest.

“Breakfast?” Barry repeated sleepily, peeking out eye open to look at where she was sitting above him with a grin. “You drive a hard bargain, Iris.”

“I’ll have to remember this for a later day, hm?” Iris teased, tipping her head to the side as she watched Barry blink sleepily. Her voice was softer when she spoke again, calm and sweet, “Good morning.” Barry’s expression sobered as he gazed up at the serene expression on her face, the full night’s sleep having done her good as she looked refreshed and more awake than since he’d seen her the first time.

“Morning,” he answered, his voice gruff as he offered a smile in return. Relaxed as he was she was able to see the dimples on his cheeks better than ever, and his eyes seemed lighter than she’d seem them so far. Shifting slightly to see her better, he reached up to gently trace along her cheek with the knuckle of his finger. “Did you sleep well, Sweetheart?”

Nodding against his hand, Iris let her eyes close as the warmth that came from his hand settled into her skin. “Thanks to you, yes. How about you?”

“Never better,” he answered in complete honesty, before his eyes narrowed faintly and he noticed that she was wearing different clothing from the night before. She wasn’t wearing her coat, or his for that matter, but she was in another sweater and a cleaner pair of pants. “Did you go somewhere?”

“Yea…I need to go and get groceries this weekend, so cooking breakfast was out of the question. I went back to that café from last night and got bagels, muffins, and—since I didn’t know if you drink coffee—two Chai teas,” she explained, tugging on her sleeves bashfully. “It’s not much, but I felt it owed you after I caused you a week of no sleep.”

“You know I don’t blame you for that,” he pointed out softly, rolling onto his side and reaching out to lay a hand over hers, stopping her from fidgeting further. “The both of us have faced things in our lives that make everything…different for us. I do not blame you for running, not one bit. And we’re together now, so that’s what matters.”

Iris bit her lip but nodded in understanding, though not quite agreement. That would take a bit more time.

“So, breakfast?” she offered, brightening up once more. Barry hesitated a moment, as though wanting to keep pushing her to make sure she really knew about she was agreeing with, but he let it pass and nodded as he smiled back.

“Sounds perfect.” Rolling out of bed as Iris leapt off the other side and moved over to begin taking everything out of the bag.

“I just got toasted bagels with butter, and a chocolate muffin and a blueberry, just because Chai tea is the limit of my knowledge about your preferences,” she explained, flushing slightly at having to admit knowing nothing about her soulmate.

“Well, I eat just about anything chocolate,” he began, leaning on his elbow on the counter as he held out one Chai to her while he kept the other. “And butter goes a long way for me, too. I do drink coffee, usually way sweeter than most would prefer. Blueberries, however, are sour and I don’t like the skin sticking to my teeth.”

His honestly and forwardness caused Iris to laugh, once more trying to hold it back and snorting in the process. Her hand flew to her mouth as her cheeks flamed, while Barry laughed heartily with his head thrown back. Now flustered, Iris moved to step away with her hand still covering her face in embarrassment. Barry wouldn’t let her, however, and he reached forward quickly to catch her wrist before she could get out of arms reach.

“No, no, no,” he hushed, drawing her in toward him. “You promised not to run off again, remember?”

“Sorry,” Iris stuttered, lowering her hand to his chest as soon as she was close enough. It was steadily becoming a kneejerk reaction to him being close. She enjoyed the warmth she could feel beneath her palm, as well as the steady heartbeat that thrummed against her. It was reassuring in its own way.

“What do you like?” Barry prompted instead, to draw the conversation away from what was making her uncomfortable.

“Coffee, also very sweet and with cream; dark chocolate that borders on bitter, and lots and lots of butter,” Iris mumbled in response, staring at his lips as she spoke as a way of forcing herself to focus. “And it’s good that I like blueberries; I’ll save you from getting them stuck in your teeth.”

Barry smiled at her in assurance, tugging her in close as he leaned forward to press a soft, short kiss to her forehead. “You really do complete me, doncha?”

“Well, we were fated,” Iris answered, still looking down from his eyes as she felt her heart pound in her chest. It was just a kiss on the forehead, but it made her pulse sore. It was the most affection she’d ever gotten from someone in her life, so it made her want to curl up against him and never leave—at the same time, however, it scared her enough to want to run away. Pulling back from him, she gave a smile that she hoped assured him. “Come on, let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Barry was coming to realize that affection and trust were the two major difficulties that Iris struggled with due to her past. Knowing that, he also made a mental pact with himself—and with the alters—that those struggles would be overcome. They would move heaven and earth for Iris, even if they had only just met her. She was their soulmate, she was _Kevin’s_ soulmate, and they would do anything to keep Kevin safe.

Since Iris didn’t have a table, and she usually ate on her bed anyway, she pulled Barry over with her to resume their place on her bed as they placed their teas on the nightstand to one side of the bed. Barry sat against the headboard as Iris sat in front of him, crossing her legs so that they were able to face one another and speak.

“What else do you like to eat?” Iris asked once they were settled, beginning on her blueberry muffin as Barry started with his bagel.

“I’ll eat just about anything, but I avoid things that are sour or bitter,” he answered honestly. “I am a terrible cook, as well, so I stick to basics.” Iris smiled at his honesty and nodded along as she tore a piece of her muffin off. “Like I said earlier, I love chocolate; I can always be bribed with chocolate.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Iris teased again, before blushing and covering her mouth because there was still some muffin she hadn’t swallowed yet. “I don’t mind sour things, but I agree with the bitter. I try to cook when I can, but I work a lot so I’m usually dead on my feet when I get home, so I tend to have instant stuff on hand more than I should.”

“Why work that much?” he asked curiously, his eyes darting briefly around her sparse apartment again. “I mean, as a manager you must get a decent amount of money…”

“It’s not about income,” Iris interrupted, knowing what he was assuming. “I have quite a bit in my bank account because I rarely spend it. I work as much as I do mostly because of the fact that there was nothing else for me to do when I got home from work; I don’t go out, I don’t have friends that I would go and see, and I always hated to be alone here for too long. So, instead, I would usually go to work and get the extra hours there. My coworkers loved it because I would take all the shifts that they didn’t want.”

Barry’s eyes were saddened when she looked up to meet his gaze, causing her stomach to clench uncomfortably. “That’s not right,” he mumbled at last. “You shouldn’t have to go through that. You should be happy.”

“In my own way, I am. And I’m much happier now, especially after a week of regretting running from Fletcher’s office. For so long, this is how I lived, away from the rest of the world—it doesn’t bother me anymore…not like it used to.”

Iris looked down at her hands, picking at the muffin as a means of fidgeting, before Barry sudden took it from her and placed both of their food off to the side. “Come here,” he prompted softly, tugging on her hands to draw her in closer to him. “Things are gunna change, Sweetheart. I don’t think any of us can stand the thought of you being alone; not to the point that you overwork yourself to replace the loneliness.”

Barry pulled her in close and pressed a kiss against the side of her head, then rested his chin at her crown. She relaxed against him at the familiar position.

“Remember, you’ve got twenty-three soulmates now. You’ll never be alone again.”


	7. Simplicity in Normalcy

Iris tried to support the basket that was draped over one of her arms; the weight of her groceries was making her wish that she had decided to get a cart that she could push instead. Trying to take some of the weight off, she leaned the basket against her hip as she looked at the display of crackers. A snack of cheese and crackers was on her list of cravings at the moment, and she was really hoping to get home quickly. The weather report was calling for thunderstorms and Iris did not want to worry about running home through a downpour while hauling bags of food.

Finally selecting a slightly pricy brand of vegetable crackers, Iris turned to head further down the aisle for the coffee and tea section—she was so stocked up on tea that she was desperate to get something different and Barry told her he liked sweet coffee so she was planning to get some just in case he spent the night again.

The thought of having him over caused a blush to rise to her cheeks, so Iris hurried down to the coffee section and looked over the shelves to try and find the tin of coffee that she had bought in the past. A huffing sigh passed her lips when she noticed that it had been raised up to the top two shelves, making it impossible for her to reach even when on her tip toes.

Taking a step back for a better reading on the height difference, she only ended with another sigh. It was probably just out of reach of her fingers if she stretched.

“Damn.”

“You look like you could use a hand, Sweetie.”

Gasping in surprise and turning quickly, Iris nearly dropped her basket as the words that were across her back were spoken in a deep, accented voice—was that a New York accent?—that was shockingly familiar. A hand darted out to catch the basket as it slipped precariously on her arm, nearly losing some of its contents. Iris’s attention lifted to the familiar face of her soulmate, but one briefly glance confirmed her assumption that this was _not_ Barry.

A pair of slightly worn black jeans and a soft looking blue shirt was exposed through an open leather jacket, startling Iris into leaning back slightly. Having the image of Barry still quite fresh in her mind, she hadn’t really been prepared for the appearance of another personality. This one was more casual, less focused on fashionable clothing while still looking extremely attractive in what he was wearing.

“Wow, hello,” Iris blurted out before she could think of her words. Her cheeks immediately grew hot as she realized what had come out of her mouth, while the man before her laughed heartily, the laugh lines on his face more prominent than they had been with Barry. Iris immediately pushed the thought of Barry aside, feeling bad that she was thinking of him while another soulmate was standing in front of her now.

“Hello to you, too, little one. So, need a hand?” he motioned to the coffee tin that she had been stretched for a minute ago, causing Iris’s eyes to finally flick away from him as she glanced back to the shelves.

“Oh…yes, please.” Ducking her head in embarrassment, the man deeply chuckled before he stepped up beside her and easily grabbed the tin and offered it to her slowly, as though he didn’t want to startle her.

“Iris,” he began carefully, taking the encounter very carefully. Those whiskey eyes finally looked up at him, the soft rose in her usually pale cheeks making his smile grow. “I believe I have you at a disadvantage. My name’s Luke,” he introduced, holding his hand out to her. Iris dropped the tin into her basket and reached out to shake his hand as a timid smile touched her lips.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

“That looks heavy,” he commented as he motioned to the basket. “Give it here, Sweetie. Barry’ll have my hide if I make you carry that.” Surprise must have shown on her face, because another laugh sounded from him as he gently extracted the basket from her hold. “He makes sure we all stay in line, and he’s absolutely smitten with you.”

He must have enjoyed watching Iris blush because he was on a roll at this point. “Well, do I need to bring up that you were following me or is this a coincidence?” Iris retorted, courage in her words showing more confidence than she actually felt.

Luke, however, seemed greatly amused with her comment and the smile on his face grew. “Rest assured, Sweetie, this is a complete coincidence.” Luke motioned behind, turning the small woman’s attention over to where there was a shopping cart piled with food. “I haven’t done the groceries for a while, so I was forced out today.”

Amusement flittered across Iris’s face as she took stock of the cart. There was such a mixture of things that it was easy to tell it was for many different people’s preferences. “Wow, that’s a lot of candy,” she commented offhand, noticing the amount of chocolate and sugary goods that were piled at the foot of the cart.

Luke rubbed the back of his buzzed head bashfully as he nodded in agreement. “I wasn’t given a list, so I kinda just grabbed everything that I’ve seen in the place before. Hedwig’s gunna be running around like a lunatic, though, so Patricia’s gunna kill me when she finds out I bought all this.” The introduction of two new names made Iris look back at him with shining eyes, filled with curiosity.

“Hedwig and Patricia?” she repeated. The way he spoke about them made Iris all the more curious about the many different personalities within this body. Hedwig sounded like he was much younger than Barry or Luke, and the fact that Patricia was distinctly female was another interesting thought.

“Yea, they’re quite the pair. You’ll understand when you meet them,” he dodged, looking mildly worried that he had said more than he should. “So, are we finished or do I need to rescue anything else from top shelves for you?” he teased instead, walking them over to the cart that he had stocked full.

“Nope, coffee was the last thing on my list,” she answered easily. She technically needed more, but she never bought too much at once since she always carried it home. “What about you? As someone as small as me, I can make it easier to get things from the bottom shelf.”

“Aren’t you clever today? I was just gunna make a stop in the cereal aisle, then I’m off.” Placing her basket of food in the top section of the cart, Luke began to push it as Iris stuttered behind him. Was he actually holding her groceries hostage? “You did offer your help. For all I know, Hedwig’s cereal is on the bottom shelf!”

“You’re terrible,” she stuttered, hurrying to catch up to him.

Admittedly, Iris had researched Dissociative Identity Disorder after she had found Dr. Fletcher’s articles and essays on the topic. However, she hadn’t been sure what to expect when it came down to actually meeting someone who had many identities for one body; especially now that she knew for certain that Kevin’s body housed men, woman and possibly children. Barry and Luke were already drastically different, so it made her a mix of excited and nervous to meet the other soulmates that she was sure was ten-fold what normal people felt when meeting their soulmates.

This was one face, twenty-three different ways.

The twenty-forth mark hadn’t developed any further since it first appeared, stuck as a blurry one-word mark that looked like a black smudged beneath her collarbone. While thinking of the mark, Iris’s hand came to rub over the spot subconsciously.

“Hey, you alright?”

Luke’s sudden question drew Iris from her thoughts as she looked up at the concerned blue eyes that were level with hers. She’d stopped walking mid-aisle and was staring into space, prompting Luke to turn around and bend in front of her so they were the same height. “Yea, sorry,” she mumbled out while dropping her hand from the mark. “Just got lost in my thoughts for a second; I used to worry that I was…broken, or there was some kind of mistake with my marks and I would never actually meet any of my soulmates. Now, in little more than a week, I’ve met two of you and learned the truth of why I have so many. It’s very…”

“Overwhelming?” Luke supplied with a soft look of understanding in his eyes; seeing that look relieved the tension that had built in Iris as her thoughts progressed.

“Yea,” she breathed. “But I am happy, so that definitely makes it worth it.”

Luke’s expression immediately brightened before he was reaching for Iris’s hand, tugging her after him as he made for the cereal aisle. Iris went silently this time, her expression growing soft as Luke began to rant about how much he hated when he was the one who had to go and get groceries. She listened closely the entire time, wanting to absorb all of the information that she could about the alters.

“And Barry, love the guy, but he is _so_ picky,” he groaned, snatching box of Lucky Charms—even though it was on the bottom shelf and he had to bend to get it. Iris was half surprised that he hadn’t followed through and made her get anything that was lower on the shelves.

“He didn’t seem picky when I was with him,” she admitted, “But I’m not the one who’s lived with him so long,” she added a moment later, absentmindedly adjusting some of the items on the shelves near her—something she’d picked up from all of her years of retail.

“Lucky you,” Luke retorted with a snort, glancing up and down the aisle as though to make sure that he wasn’t forgetting anything.

“What about you? If I asked Barry, would he say you were picky?” Iris asked in return, pulling at her sleeves as she glanced back to him. With Barry, she had allowed herself to relax when it came to her marks, but that was in her home. Now, in an open place, it was very different. She wasn’t wearing gloves, so it made things very different about her comfort level and who was looking at the mark on the back of her hand.

Even if people thought it was her only one, there were still unmarked out there who would be violent or rude toward those with marks.

Luke didn’t seem to notice the movements, beginning to push the cart—and her basket—toward the cash registers. “Oh, I’ll eat anything,” he admitted with a broad grin. “Patricia’s happy about that, at least when it’s good food; isn’t always happy that I’ll go for just about any junk food out there.”

“I don’t blame her,” Iris admitted. “Please tell me you don’t eat fast-food.”

Turning to look at him with a slightly desperate look in her eyes, Luke opened his mouth as though to deny it, but then snapped his jaw shut and looked away sheepishly. Iris’s eyebrow quirked up as she paused at the end of the aisle, while stepping aside as an older woman squeezed past them to get into the cereal section.

“Only sometimes,” he finally admitted quietly, peaking at her from the corner of his eye.

“Mhm,” Iris hummed in understanding, though still sounding doubtful. “Barry might be picky but you’re junky,” she blamed, pointing at him while turning the corner to continue on without him. Luke’s jaw dropped as she walked away, somehow not having expected her to actually tease him. As someone who had run off when Barry first met her, he hadn’t thought she would be so comfortable with the rest of them right off the bat.

Following after her, he fought a smile as he saw a flash of her true colours. She was definitely a quiet person and much more timid than either him or Barry, but there was a bold streak within her that he definitely wanted to see more often.

Glancing down at the basket of her things that was still sitting at the front of his cart, Luke wondered if that was really enough for her. She’d told Barry that she didn’t have any food left in her apartment, and this sure as hell didn’t seem like enough to fill a kitchen. Knowing as little about her as he did, he could definitely say she was a practical person, so she was probably only getting enough to get by that she could manage to carry.

He barely knew her, she was very new to having people to rely on, so he wouldn’t say anything about her meager shopping. There was a specific way she was used to doing things. Barry had said that she may seem underweight, but she was actually just really skinny; her arm was rather muscular beneath the skin. Looking at her, he found it somewhat hard to believe, but Barry wasn’t known to lie. Sometimes, he was _brutally_ honest.

When he turned the corner to find Iris, she was standing in front of a display of flowers that were already prepared in individual bouquets. Her fingers traced over the petals of one, feeling the silky texture as she looked over the pale violet of the bloom. He didn’t even know what the flower was, looked like some kind of daisy, but it brought a smile to Iris’s lips as she took in the details and feel of the delicate plant.

“Any chance your favourite flower is an Iris?” he asked as he came up behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see the flower arrangement better.

The woman in question laughed, releasing the bloom from between her fingers. “No, I think those flowers look rather strange, if I’m being honest. I used to like lilies most when I was younger, but then I successfully grew marigolds and they kinda got a special place in my heart.”

“Aw, still room for the rest of us, I hope,” he teased, leaning on the handle of the cart.

Iris’s cheeks flushed at the question while she looked back at him over her shoulder; even leaning as he was he still had a couple of inches on her. “No one else is so close to me,” she answered softly, looking up at him with those whiskey eyes. It damn near melted his heart. “I was made your soulmate for a reason. Maybe that’s why my heart’s been kept empty for so long; to provide more room for more people in my future.”

Luke’s expression softened as he just watched her for a moment. There wasn’t heartbreak or sadness in her expression as she spoke of her lack of family, or love in her life, but it still pained him to know that she’d been alone for so long. Barry had chosen not to share all that he knew with everyone, saying that it was her story to tell. And in time, when she met them, she would tell them, too. So, Luke only knew basics, but it was easy to know that someone with her timidity and fear had been through hell. Abused by parents, as Fletcher had suspected, was something they were aware could leave serious damage behind.

Reaching out for her, Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew in her against his chest. Iris looked surprised at the suddenness of the action, her head tipped back to look him in the eye. “Sweetheart, I promise your heart will never be empty again.”

Her somber expression faded with a smile as she leaned into him just slightly, accepting his embrace. “I’m coming to understand that truth.”

Giving her another tight squeeze, pulling her in close to his chest as her tiny form nearly disappeared into his leather jacket. “So, let’s go check out,” he offered instead, not one to stick to serious topics if he could help it.

Nodding in agreement, Iris stepped reluctantly away from him.

Luke and Barry may have shared a body, but they definitely were different people. Even their smell was different, and she knew that it wasn’t because of differing brands of cologne. Barry had smelled clean, like crisp clothing and a fresh shower. Luke had more of a musky smell to him, like leather and wood-smoke. It was an interesting comparison, yet it suited their personalities perfectly as well.

Luke didn’t let her wonder too far away from him, instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her in closer to his side as he pushed the cart with one hand. Even though a blush warmed Iris’s cheeks, she was relieved to be near. Being with to a soulmate was the greatest comfort she could ever have; that _anyone_ could have.

“You stay close to me, Sweetie—you’re so tiny someone could carry you away from me.” Somehow, Iris wasn’t surprised that he combined a tease with a protective action and statement. Even having only been around him for a few minutes, the backwards complement/tease was right up his alley.

“I haven’t blown away by wind yet, so I’m sure I’ll be okay,” Iris teased back. The laugh that she received in response warmed her heart and had a smile blooming across her face.

Luke smirked down at her and squeezed her shoulders as he parroted, “ _Yet_.”

“Oh, shush you,” she laughed, nudging his side with her elbow as she turned her attention ahead of them to see which of the check-out lanes was free, or almost free. “Come on, so I can have my groceries back.”

“I dunno, those crackers are calling to me, I might have to-”

Before he could even grab them from the basket, Iris’s small hand snapped up and slapped the back of his with surprising force. He jerked back and stopped walking as he looked down at the small woman in shock—the back of his hand actually stung slightly with the suddenness of her slap, and the force behind it. Her cheeks were still flushed but there was a faint upturn to her lips that made her look like she was smirking coyly.

“No touching my crackers.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Luke was definitely looking forward to knowing Iris better over time; and if how relaxed Barry had been when he’d returned the night before had been any indication, she was going to be good for all of them. Her judgement of his food already reminded him of Patricia, but much less…scary. Even though her eyes held a haunting past in them, he was sure that they were all going to make one big weird, perfect family. Hedwig was already spending most of his time out of the light raving about her, but they all knew that he wouldn’t meet her until she was comfortable enough to come to their home—body of a man or not, they would never allow a nine-year-old boy out on his own. Regardless of how badly he wanted to meet Iris.

“Although, I may have to hold your groceries hostage a little while longer,” Luke continued a moment later, pulling himself back to reality as he snatched Iris’s basket before she could.

“What?” the small woman stuttered in surprise; she had not been expecting him to continue the whole charade now that they were checking out.

“Until I have safely walked you home, I will not let you have your groceries.”

Iris frowned faintly at him. “I can’t let you do that, Luke. You have a ton of things yourself, and I’m just down the block. I’ve done this a million times before.” Her eyes scanned over the cart, knowing that Luke was going to have several more bags than her and as strong as he seemed, she didn’t want to cause any trouble for the man.

“Well, good thing I was planning on calling a cab—and Barry spilled the beans, I know that your place is near that little café that Jade loves, which means you’re on my way home. So, we’ll take a cab and both of us are saved from _that_.” As he finished speaking, he pointed to the front window of the store. Iris followed the direction of his finger and gasped at the sight of the absolute downpour that was happening outside. The few people out there had umbrellas or bags over their heads and they were madly rushing for the nearest cover. It was enough that she nearly missed his mention of another name. Jade.

“Oh, no,” she grumbled, already dreading the simple thought of walking through that.

“By that tone, I’m guessing I win,” Luke whispered dramatically, bent forward so that he was right next to her ear. Iris sighed while her shoulders dropped, defeated. “Ha! Victory!” he called, celebrating.

Iris couldn’t help but to laugh at his antics, shaking her head while she moved forward to place a divider on the cashier’s belt, then reach out for her basket with a strict, no nonsense look that was usually reserved for rowdy children that were brought into her store. Luke grinned somewhat sheepishly and finally returned her basket so that she could empty it out onto the belt, placing another divider to separate their things.

The simple, everyday routine allowed them both to relax after the initial excitement of meeting. Luke had nearly fled the aisle when he’d first seen her, having thought that there was _no_ possible way that it could really be _her_. He’d never had such amazing luck before, but it seemed that it was finally his time because she’d been just as Barry had told them.

The mark on the back of her hand, and the trace of another on her wrist like Fletcher and Barry had explained, just confirmed everything.

Iris, on the other hand, was already reeling from having spent time with one soulmate, who even slept over at her apartment, and now she was meeting another. It almost made her dizzy, especially since they wore the same face but had such differing styles and personalities. It made her wonder if it would get easier with each of the identities, or if she would always feel that strange mix of familiarity and nervousness that boiled over into timid excitement when she met them.


	8. Let Me Bear Your Scars

What a view they must have made; standing outside of the grocery store as Iris chased Luke in circles in an attempt to get her one bag of groceries from him. Luke was wearing a confident smirk on his face as he continued to hold them out of reach, his bags of food sitting a foot away against the wall as they waited for the cab he had called. "You're being a child! How old are you, anyway?"

"I am twenty-six, I will have you know," he snarked back, keeping the bag out of reach even as Iris stood on the tips of her toes and stretched to the best of her ability.

"Then act like it!"

The honk of a car horn drew their attention away from one another, turning them to the road as a bright yellow cab pulled up to the curb. "Ha!" Luke cheered before he rushed over to open the back door, rain immediately pouring down over him as he placed Iris's bag in the back seat. The small woman let out a faint sigh before pulling the hood of her coat over her head and rushed out after him. "You get in, I'll grab the other ones," he assured, directing Iris into the back seat as the driver nodded to her in silent greeting.

Iris's lips barely twitched with a smile in return, her head bowing down in avoidance as Luke closed the door to her right. Luke was quick as he retrieved his bags from against the building and deposited them into the trunk of the cab. "Where to, miss?" the driver called back after a brief pause. "He said that you were being dropped off first?"

"Oh, yea," Iris stuttered a moment, before she rattled off her address. It was only a few minutes down the road, but the downpour that was pelting the car was a pretty good excuse for taking the cab.

She'd barely finished telling the driver when Luke opened the door on Iris's other side, sliding in as quickly as he could to avoid further rain. It was rather useless, however, because he was already soaked to the bone from the few short moments he had been in it. "Wow, cats and dogs," he gasped as he shook his head, water trailing down his face. At least his leather jacket had prevented the rain from getting to his shirt and making it all the more uncomfortable for him.

The driver pulled away from the curb in that instant, jolting Iris to nearly slide into the door. "You're dripping everywhere," Iris mumbled, reaching out to catch a raindrop that was a moment away from dripping off his nose. "I hope your door is close to the curb," she added on, glancing out the window at the rush of water that was caused by the heavy rain and wind.

"Yea, not really," Luke reluctantly admitted. "But, I've done this before," he assured with a smile, bringing out his dimples. "Not in an all-out downpour, though."

"I'd been hoping I would beat the rain. That didn't really happen."

"Bet you're happy you ran into me?" he prodded with a teasing smirk. Iris huffed a laugh as she reluctantly nodded. She couldn't imagine having to walk home while it was pouring rain outside. That paled in comparison to her having met her second soulmate in little more than a week. She never thought that it would happen so quickly.

She wanted to say a bit more to him, to express her happiness about meeting him, but it concerned her that they were in a car with someone they didn't know, even if he was the driver. Before she had any further time to think on the matter, the car slowed to a stop at the curb outside of Iris's building. The familiar white stones were her only warning before the driver glanced back at the two of them, as though silently bidding her out.

"I'll help you," Luke immediately offered, giving no room for Iris to argue before he had popped open the door and slipped out with her bag of groceries in hand. The small woman stuttered in surprise, getting a muffled chuckle from the driver as he quickly diverted his attention to the front window again.

"Thank you for the ride," Iris called up to him, her voice still timidly quiet before she turned to the door as Luke opened it for her.

"I'll be just a second," Luke assured the man before he helped Iris from her seat and helped her to rush for the entrance of her building, a supportive hand against her back while the other carried her bag. "I'm real happy I met you, Iris," he said as he leaned down to her level and tightened his arm around her waist. "Everyone else is gunna be jealous; I got to meet our soulmate."

"Don't brag too much," Iris warned with an answering smile. Taking her bag from him and wrapping another arm around his shoulder, making Luke lean down to her height so that she could hold onto him more easily. "I'm happy I met you, too, Luke. Get home safe."

"Promise," he mumbled back, leaning against the crook of her neck for a moment. Then he was pulling away, taking the warmth of his body from Iris as he stepped back, and rushed to the cab that was waiting patiently for him. Iris lingered at the door long enough to wave him off, then stepped into her building quickly to escape the chill.

Stepping into the stairwell, she was left with a smile brightening her features as she steadily climbed up to the top floor. One of her neighbours was making their way down passed Iris on her way passed the second floor entrance, giving her a strange look when she realized that Iris was _smiling_. There were very few people in the building that had actually met Iris, rushing or hiding as she normally was while inside.

The look of bewilderment wasn't even enough to dampen her happy mood or expression, letting the woman step into her warm apartment as her smile remained. The fatigue of the morning had faded, leaving her to thrum with energy as she routinely put her groceries away before moving over to the small bookshelf that held some of the textbooks she liked to read slowly. Because of the lack of sleep from having run from Barry, she hadn't even been able to find the interest to pick them up let alone take the time to read them.

Singing softly beneath her breath, Iris placed the book on the counter and began the process of making a tea. The coffee she'd purchased was calling her name, but it was already too late in the day for her to submit to that desire otherwise she would be awake the entire night. Having met her soulmate assured her that she would be sleeping better, but it would be for naught if she drank a cup of caffeine.

Once her tea was finished, Iris pushed her pillows up against the headboard of her bed and shuffled around a moment to get comfortable. Just as she was about to crack open the history book she'd steadily been going through, her cellphone pinged from the nightstand to her left. Stretching over to retrieve it, the small notification of a new email made her blink in confusion and tap on the little icon.

At the top of her email list, _Barry_ was written in bold in the subject line, signalling it as unread. Iris's lips twitched with a repressed smile as she quickly selected the email and waited as patiently as she could for the page to load. Barry had given her his email instead of a cellphone number, explaining that it was easier for each of the personalities to have a personal email account rather than a cellphone for each of them. They had one main phone that was registered in Kevin's name, mostly used as a means of emailing rather than texting or calling.

Immediately, the first sentence made her laugh once the page had loaded.

_Luke won't shut up. He only got home a few minutes ago and I think at least one person is debating on smothering him with a pillow. I hope he wasn't too energetic; he's always been a bit more on the rowdy side. I am glad that he didn't let you walk home in the rain, though._

Iris found herself smiling as she read along, the happiness that came with the simple method of communication surprising her. There were few things that could brighten her mood so easily, so this was yet another thing about the soulmarks that were changing her life very suddenly, and very drastically.

_I'm real glad that you got to meet him, though. Luke would do just about anything for someone if they asked. And you, Iris, deserve only the best._

_I'll talk to you again soon; have a nice day off tomorrow!_

_-Barry_

Iris licked at her lips nervously while leaning back into her pillows comfortably, tapping on the reply icon and staring at the blank page in thought. She had no idea whether she was supposed to answer back about Luke or not, since Barry had assured her that he wouldn't tell the others anything personal that she had told him unless it was what she wanted. He wanted her to tell them only when she was ready, just like what she had done with him.

Was talking about her time with Luke appropriate when she was speaking with another soulmate?

Sighing softly, she decided that pushing aside her second-thoughts and overthinking had worked for her so far, so she could continue to do so.

_Good evening, Barry. I hope he's not getting on everyone's nerves too badly; although, he did seem quite excited about bragging rights. I think it was his way of getting back for having to do the groceries—which, by the way, you might want to hide some of because there was an awful lot of sugar in that cart._

_Please thank him again for me about the ride home, I definitely would not have enjoyed walking through that storm, even if it's only a few blocks. If you guys keep this up, you're going to spoil me._

_I promise I'll enjoy my day off. Have a great shift, and get a good night's sleep!_

_-Iris_

Hitting send before she could let doubt creep in, Iris released the breath that she had been holding as she reread her message for any errors. Her phone alerted her that her message had been sent and she let herself drop the phone onto the mattress and turn away from it, knowing that there was no going back. There was no reason for her to second-guess the message; it was simple, friendly, and polite.

Retrieving the book she had put aside, Iris allowed herself to relax into the pillows again as the happiness from meeting Luke was joined with the content feeling of having heard from Barry.

Barry's expression was soft as he read Iris reply, his footsteps carrying him to the kitchen as he moved the email into his 'Iris' file, wanting to keep her messages private from the rest of his work/Fletcher related emails. Entering the kitchen with a smile as he slipped the phone into the back pocket of his pants, he moved over to one cabinet that usually housed their snacks and let out a laugh when he was faced with a shelf full of chocolate, chips, and other assorted candies.

"Luke, you suck at this, man," he mumbled to himself and began taking some of the packages out. He'd have to hide them temporarily and let Patricia know, she'd be a lot better at hiding them than him. A ping on his phone drew him to pause, however, and he immediately drew it out to see if Iris had perhaps sent him another email after the first.

Instead, Dr. Fletcher's name in the subject line relaxed his excitement as he selected the unopened email, reading over the simple message that she had sent, hoping him and Iris well and confirming that he was going to show up for their next session. She also asked if he would like for her to invite Iris over for another meeting with her; she was offering to better explain D.I.D to her.

Barry leaned against the counter as he looked down at the phone, contemplating whether or not he wanted for her to learn about their disorder from another person.

However, that was not up to him. Iris was a smart woman, she was probably already researching about the disorder on the internet. Typing back a quick response that said it was up to Iris, not him, he returned to his original task of hiding the sweets before Hedwig took the light and binged on them for the better part of the evening.

Heading for his room afterword, he made sure to set his alarm to be awake in time for work, Barry settled down at his desk as he pulled one of his larger sketchbooks over to him. This one in particular he always kept away from the others, and never showed to Fletcher. It was his personal sketchbook, one that housed the faces of the alters, or the animals that he drew at the zoo. This sketchbook didn't have any of the dresses or other articles of clothing that he normally drew.

Flipping to a fresh page, the previous one housing a drawing of the tiger that he had done from the zoo, Barry pulled his tin of pencils closer to him and selected a simple 2H. It would be easier for him if there was a picture or the real thing to look at, but there was still a strong image of her in his mind. And Luke, too, had seen her. Somehow, that seemed to strengthen the memory of her in his mind.

Beginning with the outline, basic shapes of her hair and face; he made sure to get the correct angle of her cheekbones and the deep set of her eyes. He almost wanted to rush through the prep-work, just so he could get into the details of her eyes, her hair, her lips. He wanted to begin giving her true justice, but to rush through the beginning stages would hinder his work on the overall portrait.

He used the memory of her from their morning, smiling to him as she sat beside him while they were eating breakfast. Her hair had been slightly mussed from sleep, yet to be brushed, and the shadows from lack of sleep had lessoned drastically from the one solid night of sleep.

Once he was certain that he had gotten all of her angles correct, he pulled out a B pencil and began to work on the shading instead. Iris's eyes were the first thing that he started to work on, filling in the soft shadows around her eyes from how deeply set they were, darkening the crease from her eyes being open, and starting along the line of her eyelashes.

Starting from those mesmerizing eyes, she was beginning to come to life on the page.

If they weren't so new to one another, he'd have asked her if he could take her picture before he'd left.

Barry wasn't sure for how long he worked, but it was well past midnight when he finally put the last of his pencils back into the metal case from which he had gotten them. Iris's portrait was finished, her timid smile just as he remembered, when Barry finally leaned back and propped the sketchbook up to get a proper look at it.

Smiling in satisfaction, he wondered briefly if he should use her as a model for his later drawings. She didn't have to wear the clothes, but he could design them in a way that they would fit someone of her tiny frame.

Her thin arms and delicate joints were attractive in the proper clothing. It broke his heart to see her wearing the baggy, oversized clothes that hid her marks—and her form. She was left to swim in the clothing that she wore, hanging past her hands and draping at her shoulders. He'd only seen her in a few different outfits, the first time having been obscured by her coat, and he remembered that her shirts and sweaters almost always went down to mid-thigh.

It made him wish he could see her in high pants, accentuating her thin waist, and a tucked in blouse that would show off her arms—which were not nearly as weak as they appeared.

Selecting a piece of tracing people, Barry tucked it gently between the pages and covered over the drawing he had just done. He didn't want it smudging from closing and opening the book, and he was fresh out of fixative spray that would prevent any damage from touch. He didn't want to tarnish the drawing of her, if only because it was Iris, not some random woman that he had decided he wanted to draw because of their attractive bone structure.

Iris's bone structure put everyone else's to shame, of course.

Tucking the sketchbook back into place on the shelf, he sighed softly when he glanced at the alarm clock next to his bed. He couldn't bring himself to regret staying up to finish her drawing, but he knew that it was going to come back to bite him in the ass when he had to get ready for work in the morning. As much as he'd rather sleep in, enjoying a fitful sleep for the first time in a week, he knew he'd have to get out of bed when the alarm went off.

And then, after his shift was over, the light would be passed to someone else for the rest of the evening. He wasn't sure who, yet, but he knew that he couldn't keep denying Dennis and Patricia for much longer. He'd kept them from the light for the past two months after they'd convinced Hedwig of the fictional being they had created, and he could tell they were starting to get antsy to be back in the light.

He figured they must have learned their lesson, since they hadn't mentioned the Beast to anyone since Barry had reprimanded them for putting such beliefs in a child's head. And Hedwig, desperate for the approval of the others, had lapped up their stories like a sponge.

Dr. Fletcher had gotten Hedwig to draw the Beast after he had rushed into an explanation of it. Barry had mentioned his concern in the previous session, so when Hedwig went in for the next one she had immediately begun the slow, delicate process of calming him and coaxing out the information that they sought. Barry's main concern was that Hedwig was growing closer to Patricia and Dennis, especially after their tales of the Beast subtly scaring the boy into favouring them, and Hedwig was the only identity in Kevin's body that was capable of stealing the light from Barry whenever he wanted.

Hedwig had never disobeyed Barry before Patricia's whispered stories, her quiet promises of protection from the Beast, of praise for his work when he went again Barry.

They had not been rewarded for their behaviour, and Barry only hoped that the problem was now behind them. As much as he appreciated what Dennis had been able to do for Kevin when he was younger, taking over to make sure that everything was where it should be and hopefully protect them from a punishing beating, he did not know what to do with the man that Dennis was becoming.

Sighing softly as he began the routine process of changing into his clothes for the night, Barry tried to push the concerns from his mind.

They had met Iris now, and he only hoped that having her around meant that they would stay on their best behaviour in order to be able to meet her. She was someone who was delicate and sweet, too fragile for stories about a Beast that lived in the train yard. It was his greatest hope that Iris could draw them back to the peaceful, safe memories they had made together—leaving behind the nightmarish tales of the Beast.

She needed them to be safe, to be loved and welcomed with absolute devotion. They could not offer devotion to something else and their soulmate, as they were meant to do.


	9. Precious Porcelain, Cracked and Broken

Iris and Barry emailed back and forth a few more times over Sunday, usually short and sweet since he was at work and Iris didn’t want to distract him from his job. Luke had surprised her with an email later in the day, saying that he’d bugged Barry into giving him her email address with a wink emoji at the end of the sentence. She’d just shaken her head with a smile as she pulled out some food for a simple dinner.

She had started her Monday with a positive outlook, having gotten much better sleeps the past couple of nights and therefore back on her game when she stepped into work. Emailing Barry and Luke had been one of the first things that she had done in the morning, somehow feeling right at home with the new addition to her routine.

The first couple of hours had gone smoothly, and Iris had been relieved to be back in her element with something to do with her time. Her coworkers were especially happy to have her back, thinking that she was going to go back to her usual routine of taking any and all hours that she could get her hands on; instead, she’d called the owner that morning and had discussed getting her schedule changed to allow for more free time on weekends and maybe evenings.

They had happily agreed, since she hadn’t taken voluntary time off since she had started there.

Her day was going smooth and by the book, Iris able to get lost in her thoughts as she priced and scanned the new books they had gotten in while manning the counter. Her coworkers were among the shelves, stocking up the empty spaces and cleaning up the messes that customers left behind.

Unfortunately, that good day didn’t last long.

“Miss, I can’t take this book,” Iris denied as she pushed the worn novel back across the counter. “Not only do you not have your receipt, we do not even sell that here.” They hadn’t gone through the painstaking process of transferring all of their files to computer for nothing, Iris was able to search for any book title and know whether they sold it or not.

“I _lost_ the receipt, sorry! But I bought this book here, just last week!”

“Well it’s in terrible condition for having been bought a week ago,” Iris answered, motioning to the heavily cracked spine, bent front page and stains along the bottom corner. “We have strict rules here; you must return the book, _with_ your receipt, within fourteen days of purchase.” Iris motioned to the taped up sign that was located just over Iris’s right shoulder, stating the rules that Iris had just said.

“I would like to talk to your manager,” the woman finally demanded with a deep scowl. She was several inches taller than Iris on flat ground, and she was now wearing four inch heels that made her absolutely tower over the younger woman.

“Hi,” Iris smiled back, remaining firmly rooted in place as she gave a small wave—almost, but not quiet, mockingly.

The woman’s face morphed into a livid frown before she snatched the book from the counter and turned on heel so fast that Iris was surprised she hadn’t spun right off her heels. She watched the woman leave, allowing Iris the satisfaction of once more having been able to pull the ‘I _am_ the manager’ card. Iris glanced over to the coworker that was stocking just a few feet away from her, hiding a grin as she tucked more books on the shelf.

“You enjoy that too much,” she called over to Iris, amusement colour her features.

“The look on their face is the only thing that makes being the manager worth it,” Iris answered as she resumed her work of unboxing, pricing and scanning the books to put everything in the system. “Makes you glad we put everything on a computer system a couple years ago?” she offered, getting a laugh from the younger woman as she nodded eagerly.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm when you have people like that,” Jessica, the younger girl who had been there for nearly five years, added on as she finished with the box that Iris had given to her and moved over to collect the other one that Iris had priced for her.

“It helps that I go into a situation like that knowing they’ll ask for…well, _me_.” Jessica snorted at Iris’s explanation before the two women returned to their work. Iris pulled her long braid over her shoulder in nervous habit, her eyes double checking the computer screen to make sure that the correct number of copies had been entered before she opened a new page for the next box.

She was wearing a pair of thin black compression gloves, keeping her hands warm and protecting them from being cut up or dried out by the boxes and books, while also hiding her mark from prying eyes. Those that she worked with had gotten so accustomed to her wearing the gloves; they didn’t usually bring them up anymore. However, now and then they would make bets about whether or not it was a soulmark, and what it might say that would make her hide it.

The next box that Iris opened was a hardcover sketchbook, one of their best-selling sketchbooks; which made her smile as Barry popped into her mind.

She had barely tagged one book when the bell over the door signalled that someone else had entered the store. Having heard the same thing every day since she worked there, Iris didn’t even look up from the counter this time. “Welcome to Pages of the World; if you need any help just let me know!” she called from her place behind the counter while sticking another price-tag on the sketchbook.

“Yea, you can fucking help me, brat!”

Iris flinched while looking up from her work, the booming yell of a man charging up to the counter making her want to tuck tail and run. Women she could deal with, they always came off as less terrifying to her than men did after all these years. Even Jessica flinched behind the display she was setting up, looking between Iris and the irate man wearily.

“Excuse me?” Iris stuttered out in surprise, unable to supress the fear that had her leaning back. There was still a counter between the two of them, but Iris couldn’t find the assurance in it.

“You turned my wife away just because of a receipt? What the hell kinda customer service skills do you have to honestly be a _manager_?” Oh course it had to be the husband. Somehow, Iris figured that the couple had planned this. They would try to get a free fifteen dollars for a used book that was not from this store; if the wife’s sob story about losing the receipt didn’t work, the husband would come in and try to scare her into doing the non-existent return.

“Ones that do not concede to liars,” Iris snapped back with more bravado than she actually felt. “The rules are clear, and I do not appreciate your immaturity with the situation; I am a grown woman, there is no need to call me a brat, sir.”

“Clearly there is! You’re supposed to please your customers, you think I’ll ever come back here?”

“The best thing about being the manager here is that the owner has assured me that I can refuse service to _anyone_ that I want. I assure you, sir, I do _not_ _want_ you or your wife to _ever_ come back.” Iris’s tone stayed level and calm the entire time she was speaking, not once raising to the point that it could be considered yelling.

Beneath the counter, Iris subtly slipped off the metal bracelet that she wore around her wrist with the keys she needed for the different locks within the store. When unclipped, it was four inches of metal that held four full sized keys on the end of it. She was not opposed to swinging it at the man’s face if he tried anything.

His face was red by the time she finished speaking, his jaw locked tight as he fixed a glare on Iris that she was sure was supposed to scare her into relenting. “Now, I will have to ask that you leave this store before I am forced to call the authorities and have you escorted out.”

Standing behind the display, Jessica was watching the entire thing with wide eyes and a jaw close to dropping. Her manager, tiny little five foot Iris that was about one hundred pounds soaking wet, was holding her ground against a six foot tall man that looked like he could throw her with one hand. Her voice had wavered in the beginning, but then she had successfully collected herself and was able to keep her composure.

“You go ahead and call them, but I am getting my refund!” the man roared, reaching toward the buttons on the register to Iris’s right—which was rather stupid, since none of them would open the register unless Iris actually unlocked it first.

Similar to what she had done with Luke in the grocery store, Iris reached out and swung her chain of keys down onto the back of his hand, the man hadn’t even been able to hit a single button before he was recoiling in shock at the sharp pain that accompanied her attack. “This will be your final warning,” she almost growled out, her free hand poised over the phone.

Majority of the employees here were woman, so the police were on speed-dial just in case ‘911’ would take too long.

“You fucking cun-”

He never got the chance to finish what he was saying before he was suddenly slammed down onto the counter, drawing a startled yelp from both Iris and Jessica as the women leapt backward from the sudden action. A pale hand was holding the wanna-be robber by the back of his neck, pressing his face into the polished counter with considerable force, the other hand keeping the man’s arm tight behind his back in a very uncomfortable looking angle.

“That is not how you speak to a lady, and it’s _especially_ not how you speak to _mine_.”

Iris damn near choked on air when she heard the familiar voice, this time with a more average American accent, and looked up the pale arms that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a sweatshirt left unzipped to expose an average undershirt and a necklace of some kind dipped down beneath the fabric. She stopped breathing entirely when her familiar handwriting was brought to the forefront of her attention. It was in her cursive, so she couldn’t read it from here, but there were many scattered along his forearms and another that shown at his left pectoral.

“What the fuck, man, get off!” the man snarled, though he was still useless to fight against the newest soulmate for Iris to meet. Had it not been for the lack of accent, she would almost think that it could have been Luke, but that would have been pushing it.

“You don’t talk to people like that, ya hear me?” he demanded while pushing the man’s face down against the counter with more force, getting an uncomfortable groan in response. “Huh?” he pressed again when no verbal response came.

“Alright!”

Nodding in satisfaction, her nameless soulmate hauled the man up from the desk and turned to face him with a hard glare. “You ever come back here and you’ll be dealing with me.” Iris had to strain to hear, but the threat was as clear as day. Then he shoved the man to the side, in the direction of the door he’d come through minutes before, and watched to make sure he left without touching any of the meticulously arranged displays.

Only when he’d ran passed the store windows and disappeared from view did his bark blue eyes turn toward Iris, who had remained silently shocked from the moment he’d first slammed her would-be robber down on the desk. “You alright, doll? He didn’t hurt ya?”

Iris opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. She couldn’t even think of forming words as the world suddenly went blurry around her and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her blood fled from her already pale complexion.

Without a word, she suddenly turned and sat on the nearby desk chair that she used while doing paperwork, the sound of rushing footsteps alerting her to someone behind the desk before Jessica’s terrified face came into view. “Iris!” she called, apparently not for the first time, and reached for the older woman’s face to feel her strikingly cold cheeks.

Another hand against her shoulder, much larger and holding more weight behind it, drew Iris to look to her right with limp neck muscles barely keeping her head up. _Barry? No, not Barry. Not Luke._

_Who?_

“It’s alright, doll, you just take your time,” he assured gently, his tone having changed drastically from when he’d first starting speaking to the other man. Even when he’d addressed Iris, he’d sounded more confident and sure, almost proud Iris’s defense. Swallowing around a suddenly dry mouth, Iris tipped her head back in an attempt to let some cool air get to her face. She knew that to another it would feel cold with lack of blood, but she felt like she was blushing red as a tomato with how hot her cheeks were.

Suddenly, cool air was blowing against her face gently as Iris took a moment to think through her breaths and bask in the refreshing feeling.

“Iris? You need me to call someone?” a new voice called timidly. It was Sarah, a twenty-one year old woman who had worked for them since she was eighteen. She’d latched onto Iris immediately, since both women were naturally quiet and usually shied away from loud, extraverted situations.

“No,” Iris breathed out softly, beginning to feel better from sitting down a moment. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll be okay. Do you mind taking over here for a moment, though?” Opening her eyes and looking over to her young coworker, Iris was relieved to see her nodding eagerly and stepping around the counter to take Iris’s spot. “I just need some air. Come get me if you need the keys, alright?” Jessica stopped fanning her with the booklet she’d picked up, stepping back to give Iris room.

“Take your time, okay? We’re perfectly fine on our own for a few minutes.”

Reluctantly agreeing, Iris turned away from the other two and reached out for her new soulmate’s hand to draw him after her, toward the front entrance. The large windows had benches in front of them for the people walking by to sit, so she immediately went for one of those.

Her soulmate followed her willingly, sitting down next to her as Iris settled down on the sun-warmed bench. “You alright, darling?” he asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he looked at Iris’s pale, pinched expression.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled tiredly, belatedly thinking that she probably should have thought of something better to say to him for first words.

“I’d rather I know what you’re going through than to be somewhere else and left to worry,” he answered easily, reaching out to pull her closer across the small bench. It left her pressed in against his side tightly, the warmth of his body helping her to relax somewhat. “That stuff happen often?”

“No,” she assured immediately, shaking her head before she let it tip to the side and rest her temple against his shoulder. “People don’t usually get so…worked up. When I mention the cops they usually take off running.”

“That guy was an asshole,” he grumbled angrily with a dark expression blanketing his features. It was not an expression she was accustomed to seeing; both Luke and Barry were more upbeat, they didn’t outwardly glare or glower. “You sure you’re alright?”

Her mouth and throat still felt abnormally dry and her heart was racing a bit faster than usual, but she could tell that there was blood returning to her face and her hands weren’t trembling like before. “I’ll be okay. I haven’t had that happen in a long time; just got overwhelmed for a minute.” He nodded in something akin to understanding, reaching up to sooth her hair gently with a gentle, assuring touch. “So, it’d be nice to have a name for my savior?”

He laughed under his breath at her timid tease, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. I’m BT, doll, and I’m damn glad I ignored Barry and came to see you today.”

Iris’s answering smile was shy and she couldn’t help but to silently agree with his words. “I’m glad, too. It scares me to think what might have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” Lowering her eyes, unable to keep looking into the deep blue—they were darker than Luke’s and Barry’s, she hadn’t thought that was possible. Instead, she looked down to where his forearms were left bare from his rolled up sleeves. Her familiar scrawl was looking back at her, especially one mark that was apparently long enough that it wrapped around his wrist three times.

A shorter one on the outside of his forearm was familiar to her; _Wow, hello._ Her words to Luke made her snort in amusement, reaching forward to trace the black cursive that stood out against BT’s pale skin. “It’s so strange to see my writing on someone else,” she mumbled to herself, aware that he could hear her.

BT leaned away from her suddenly, then proceeded to pull up the side of his sweater and shirt that he was wearing to expose the left side of his torso. _I’m sorry you had to see that_ was written across his side, starting at the base of his ribs and trailing down along to the hem of his pants.

Her lips parted in surprise as she looked at the dark words, repressing the urge to reach out and touch them. Barry and Luke hadn’t outwardly tried to hide their skin or marks from her, but they had worn warmer clothes when she’d met them and therefore had masked any of their marks. BT was the first to wear something that exposed his marks willingly, feeling as though he had nothing to hide.

And to go even further, he had gone ahead and pulled up his shirt to show her the words that she had just spoken to him. She was left trying to not look at the cut of his hip that proved something she’d already assumed—he was incredibly fit.

“I…can’t show you where mine is,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a blush as she remembered where BT’s mark was—curving along her left ribs, following the natural curve that was beneath her left breast.

“Now ya got me curious,” BT teased gently, not wanting to push her too far when she was still clearly shaken from what had happened. His smile softened as he straightened his shirt and shuffled her closer to him again, returning her to her place pressed against his side. “I don’t wanna leave ya here alone; feels wrong after _that_.”

He motioned with his thumb in the direction that the guy had run off, probably hopping into a car that his wife was still waiting in. “I’m not alone,” Iris argued tiredly. “There’s three other people working today, and it’s just a simple bookstore. Things like _that_ never really happen. I do get the odd person who tries to trick us by bringing in some used book for a return, but that guy was…determined.”

“Is it all girls in there? Because no offense to you all defending yourselves, but I doubt anyone’s gunna be intimidated by four short girls trying not to let him rob the place.”

“We have David in as well,” she assured. “He’s closing today, because I opened the store.”

BT seemed to relax slightly as he nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face as he pondered for a moment. “When do you get off? I’ll come get ya!”

Iris wanted to stop him, to deny him from interrupting his schedule for her, but she already knew that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I finish at four today; come here around quarter after?”

“You got it, doll.” BT leant forward suddenly to smack a kiss against the side of her head in assurance. “I’ve gotta get going, though. Barry’s already gunna be pissed if he finds out that I came here…well, more like _when_ he finds out. Barry knows freaking _everything_.”

Iris stood up with BT, already feeling a thousand times better after she’d had some time to get fresh air. “Thanks for your help, BT. I’m definitely glad you came here when you did.” BT grinned broadly before he reached out to snatch her up, pulling her against him abruptly in a near bone-crushing hug. She was jarred for a moment before she returned his embrace and hugged him back, revelling in the warmth that he emitted. “I’ll see you after four.”

She backed away from him reluctantly, smiling shyly as she trailed her hand along the covered mark on his left side. BT smirked back, knowing what she was doing, as he nodded his affirmative. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll be waiting out here for you, a’right?”

“Deal.”


	10. Simple Comforts

Iris had never been the kind of person that would stare at the clock as her shift drew to a close, but this was definitely one of those days; nearly from the moment BT had left, she had been almost glued to the clock on the computer screen next to where she was working. Jessica had noticed her change in behaviour, but she hadn't made any comment in case it was because she was still shaken from what had happened with the man she'd fought.

What surprised Iris the most was that there were no comments about how BT had called her 'mine' when he'd scolded the would-be robber. Truthfully, only Jessica had heard the comment, but she knew for a fact that her coworkers were a gossipy bunch. She wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth, however, so she gladly stepped back and did her work as she enjoyed the relative peace of the store. There were no other instances that happened; most of those who came in were regulars.

She was really looking forward to not having to hear people say "oh, honey, you're so pale!" any more that day.

Taking in a deep breath to relax herself as she made her way into the back room of the store, her locker and work bag sitting there waiting for her to end her shift. Pulling off her compression work gloves and dropping them on the top shelf, the pale woman exchanged them for a warmer outdoor pair to cover the back of her hand once more. Her small satchel carried her wallet and her phone, ensuring that she wasn't lugging around a lot of weight on her way home.

She was always ready to run, and after all these years she was pretty good at it, too.

Pulling her coat on over her sweater, Iris carefully pulled her braid out from her jacket so as not to tug the strands before slinging her bag over one shoulder. She quickly checked the time on her phone before it went in her bag; Iris pulled the zipper of her sweater all the way up to the end, meeting just beneath her chin. It was slightly warmer today, but still a bit nippier than she was accustomed to or preferred. Just cold enough that she made sure to wear her coat.

She could feel her hands shaking, trembling at the realization that she was going to be with yet another of her soulmates. BT was the first to make an outward display of violence while with Iris, and somehow it hadn't startled her or scared her. Normally, violence would scare her away but when it came to BT it was oddly...reassuring.

Waving to her coworkers as she walked passed the aisles and counters, Iris was relieved to be leaving work—for once. Usually, it was when she had to leave for home that made her regret not having another job.

Meeting her soulmates really was changing everything about her life.

Her eyes were drawn to the front window, where she had sat on the bench with BT earlier that day; he was already there. Sitting with his ankles crossed, legs stretched far out in front of him, BT was as relaxed as could be while he was waiting, a few minutes early from the time they had decided on. As though knowing that she was there, he glanced over his shoulder to meet her eyes through the window. Immediately, a smile lit his features as he stood up and turned to face the window fully.

"Have a good evening, Iris!"

"Thank you, Jessica, you as well," Iris called over her shoulder before she slipped out of the store and into the chill of the evening. BT's hands slipped into his pockets as he greeted her with a smile.

"How was your shift?" he asked with a cautious grin.

"Just fine; happily boring," she assured, knowing that he was asking as a way of making sure that nothing else had happened to her after he'd left that morning. "What about you, how was your day?"

"I didn't do much, definitely distracted after this morning, so I guess it's a good thing I didn't have work," he admitted somewhat shyly, causing her to smile bashfully as her gaze fell to her feet. "So, you have anything planned tonight?" he asked as casually as he could, scuffing his shoes against the concrete as though in nervous habit.

Iris looked up to gauge his expression, noticing that he seemed to be half-dreading, half-anticipating her response. "No, no plans tonight. Why?"

Some of the tension left him, but he didn't relax entirely. "Wanna go for dinner? My treat."

Iris's heart leapt in excitement as her stomach tangled in nervous knots. "I'd love to, BT. But you don't have to pay-"

"'Ey, no. That's the only condition—I pay."

Biting on the inside of her left cheek, Iris already knew that arguing was pointless. "Alright, fine, you pay," she conceded, shaking her head both at herself and at him. "You pick where we go, than."

BT's smile was nearly blinding as he reached down and snatching Iris's hand, pulling her in close to him as he turned away from the direction of her apartment. The additional change in her everyday routine made her slightly twitchy, an aftershock of discomfort ricocheting in her chest, but then BT squeezed her hand and started to ramble about the restaurants that he knew around town, all the while asking if she had any allergies or foods that she absolutely couldn't stand.

No allergies and barring only sushi or other raw meats, BT pondered for a moment before he grinned broadly again and snapped the fingers of his free hand excitedly. "I know just the place, and I promise ya, doll, you're gunna love it!"

She didn't have time to react before he was tugging more insistently, nearly dragging her down the street. "Whoa, careful! My legs are shorter than yours!"

BT immediately slowed down for her, his strides still long but significantly reduced in speed. "Sorry, doll, just got excited," he apologized immediately as a bashful smile softened his features. "You are definitely tiny, though. Look at you!"

"Stop," Iris whined, leaning away when he used his free hand to hover over her head, demonstrating the limit of her height. "You guys are the worst; what's so wrong with being short?"

His teasing expression softened at her words, tugging her into his side again as he smiled reassuringly. "There's nothing wrong, doll. In fact, you're absolutely perfect in my opinion—just the right height for us to tuck you in real close." To demonstrate, he shifted so that his arm was wrapped over her shoulder and he was able to pull her in tight against his side. Iris's tiny stature had her with her head barely over his shoulder, so her body really did slot perfectly against his.

Her cheeks heated at the close contact, ducking her head while leaning into him ever so slightly. "Well, I'm way past the age for getting a growth spurt, so you're stuck with me like this."

BT smiled down at her before he swooped down and pressed a kiss against the crown of her head, much the same as he had done before he left that morning. "Don't you worry—you won't hear  _any_  of us complain about that."

"Good to know," she mumbled, momentarily shocked at having received two affectionate kisses from him.

She glanced along the street at the other people that were walking around, none of which were paying attention to the two of them. It shocked her, since she had always assumed that people were staring at her—judging her silently, even if they couldn't actually see any of her marks. Taking a calming breath, she forced herself to focus on BT's presence to her side.

"So, do I get any hints about where we're going?" she asked after a brief pause between them, remaining close to BT.

Shaking his head, BT refused to give even the slightest hint and instead declared that it was going to be a total surprise. Looking down at her slightly flushed complexion, the tiny smile that turned up the corner of her lips, even the whiskey eyes that were directed bashfully forward, BT was certain that he could spend the rest of his time in the light just looking at her. Taking her in. It made him wonder if this was how Barry felt when it came to his art, and the urge he had to draw things.

What he would give to be able to engrain her in his mind forward; to do so with every moment he had with her.

None of them had really known what to expect when it came to meeting their soulmate. They'd heard from others about their experiences, and each of them had taken the time to look on the internet at people's stories from their lives with a soulmate, dating back to their first encounter. However, they knew that it would be different for them. All sharing one body, and one soulmate, was bound to make it interesting.

BT had been concerned when Barry took the helm; he spent most of the time in the light, and therefore the rest of the alters were worried that he would spend all the time he wanted with their future soulmate. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, but it was still a worry none the less.

He was going to be in trouble with Barry later, that was for certain. He'd told them to just let things fall as they may and not to force a meeting with Iris. However, it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up! To think that she was just down the street, so close to him but just out of reach all because Barry said so. No, he wasn't going to just sit by and miss this opportunity for himself.

And he was so, so glad that he had gone against Barry's orders. The rage that had gripped him when he'd seen the true and authentic fear on Iris's face, her soft coloured eyes narrowed and scared as she was faced with a man much larger than her, had been enough to cause his muscles to shake with tension. He'd come in just in time to see the smack he received to the back of his hand, reminding BT about what Luke had told him regarding her surprisingly fast reflexes, and the faintest bit of pride welled in his chest.

She was a tiny thing and it was clear that intimidation had some effect on her, but she hadn't let that stop her. Lashing out as she had proved that, although her backbone looked frail, it was sturdy.

Holding her just a little bit closer, Iris glanced up at him curiously. He made sure that he wasn't glaring or showing any of the anger from remembering that morning, and instead beamed down at her with one of his best smiles before he pressed another kiss against her hair. "Almost there. You tired from work?"

"Yea, it was a long day. Having that man come in this morning set me on edge, too. I was tense all day," she admitted quietly, nearly bowing her head down in embarrassment. "And I was excited to see you again."

"Aw, doll, I'm touched," BT teased gently, placing his free hand over his heart in a mock-swoon. "But if we're confessing an all, you've been on my mind  _all_  day." Her pale cheeks were immediately dusted with another blush, to which BT silently celebrated. He loved it when her cheeks went rosy, it made her look livelier, but at the same time similar to a china doll. "And it wasn't just 'cause I was worried about you. I've been hoping all day that you'd say yes to dinner."

"Well, no more worrying," she answered softly, giving him one of the brighter smiles he'd seen from her thus far.

"And on that note," he stated suddenly, slowing his stride as they approached a street corner. "We're here."

Iris looked up toward the sign that wrapped around the corner.  _New York, New York_. It was a pizza place, considered to have the best pizza from New York. "I've heard of this place," she started happily, thankful that it was just a simple place and not something overly fancy. People in restaurants with big open rooms almost made her feel uncomfortable and exposed. A pizzeria she could do. "Never been here, though."

"Well, prepare to be absolutely amazed," BT assured, stepping forward to grab the door for her. Iris smiled and nodded her thanks as she stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed with the smell of cheese, tomatoes and fresh dough. BT stepped in behind her, returning his arm over her shoulders as though in protective gesture.

An older man, who Iris strongly assumed was Italian, beamed at them from the counter. "Welcome! What can I get for you two?" Yep, definitely Italian.

BT grinned back before he turned his attention down to Iris. "What do you say, separate slices or we go all the way and get a deep dish?"

Iris offered back a mirroring grin, though much more subdued than BT's. "Deep dish," she answered confidently.

"Pepperoni?"

"Can't go wrong with that," she answered immediately.

BT was already pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. "I'll order, you go grab a table." Iris knew that trying to argue about who was going to pay was useless, so she simply nodded and moved over to a free booth near the door to the kitchen. The smells coming from inside drew her in, wrapping her in comfort. She'd never really been one to eat out, so when it came to getting pizza or another greasy, in-no-way good for you food, she always found it to be a comfort.

Sliding into the booth, Iris looked over when she heard BT's booming laugh. He was joking with the older man behind the counter as he waited for his change. The bright smile on his face was contagious and Iris soon felt her own lips curving upward at the sight. BT glanced over at her in that instant, the soft blue of his eyes meeting her whiskey ones before he grin grew even more when he caught her watching him with a smile.

Immediately bashful, Iris's eyes lowered to the hands she had folded in her lap as her cheeks warmed with yet another blush. Her heartrate increased as she looked down at the back of her hand, the mark covered by her spring gloves. Suddenly, the sight of the mark covered up didn't sit as well with her. BT showed off all of his marks with pride, even if he was going to receive looks of ridicule from people that he passed on the street.

Swallowing thickly, Iris eased the glove off her hand and moved to tuck them into her simple bag alongside her phone. The pizzeria was warm enough that she'd overheat from wearing them anyway. BT slid into the booth across from her in that moment, the smile never having left his face.

"So, what did you do today? If you don't mind me asking," she added on quickly, not sure if she was overstepping her bounds.

BT just laughed it off. "Ask me anything you want, I won't mind," he assured, "and I was at the gym for most of the day. I like to exercise, probably a bit more than I should but...everyone's got their thing."

Iris smiled in assurance as she remembered her discussion with Barry; his thing was art. "I understand completely," she assured. "I love music. I've always used it when I needed to calm down or if I needed help focusing on something. It...centers me."

BT leaned forward in interest, lacing his fingers together on the table as he leaned on his elbows. "Yea? Like, you play instruments?"

"Some," she answered bashfully, nervously tracing her finger over the mark on the back of the hand, hidden beneath the table so no one could see. "I only took some lessons for things, so I'm mostly self-taught. Most of the lessons I took were singing lessons, actually." His eyebrows immediately went up in surprise, though thoroughly interested, and Iris couldn't help but to feel some pride at the expression of wonder that soon fell over his features.

"You know you're gunna have to sing for me now, right? You can't just say that and not let me hear."

Iris covered her face in embarrassment. "Oh god, no. I've never sung in front of someone," she admitted, her words muffled against her hands. BT's eyes flicked briefly to the black mark on her hand but the writing too small for him to make out. Reaching out, he took a gentle hold of her hands and drew them away from her face to show the reddened, flushed skin beneath.

"Relax, doll, there's no pressure," he promised calmly, gifting her with a more subdued, true smile. "I'd love to hear it, believe me, but only when you really want to."

In the past, Iris was accustomed to people reacting in much more demanding ways. They'd see her fiddling with piano keys and immediately demand that she play something, or she'd be singing under her breath when she thought no one was around at work and they'd ask her to sing something. With BT, to know that he was patient enough to wait for her to be confident in her own talents, it warmed her heart.

"Thank you," she whispered, meeting his eyes shyly.

BT just smiled in return and lifted her hands to press a kiss against her knuckles in comfort. "So, what lessons, aside from singing, did you take?"

They fell into comfortable conversation as they waited for their pizza, Iris telling him about the brief lessons she had taken for piano, guitar and violin, all by an older woman who'd retired and wanted to share her love of music. When she'd realized that Iris had a natural talent for music, she'd given her a discount on lessons and had proceeded to teach her the beginner lessons and some more advanced ones. Unfortunately, she'd gotten sick after two years and her family moved her out of state to a home that was closer to them.

She was probably one of the closer things Iris had ever experienced similar to family affection. She'd known about Iris's marks, at least the few that she could see, and had never judged her. "I've lived through too much to start judging other people," she'd told her. "I'm met a few soulmate groups over the years and they were always the happiest people out there."

Knowing that other people with multiple marks had made happy lives for themselves had given Iris hope, some of the fear that lingered with the 'what if' thoughts dissipating.

And now that she'd met some of them, each as charming and kind as the last, Iris finally felt that she could live in peace with her marks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever to update! I moved across the country and have been trying to get settled. Hopefully there won't be any more huge delays.


	11. Chained and Free

Her cheeks hurt. Never in her life had Iris smiled for so long that her cheek muscles actually ached and prompted her to rub them to alleviate the soreness. But sitting across from BT as he regaled stories of some of the things he'd gotten into over the years had her nearly hyperventilating. He seemed to have one goal in mind, and that was to make her laugh as much as he could before they needed to part ways. "Barry wasn't happy, I nearly broke my nose that time," he went on, explaining when he was trying to do something called parkour and had misjudged a distance between two stone pillars.

"I can't even imagine how much that must have hurt," Iris stuttered out with a hand over her mouth to hide the fact that she hadn't been able to swallow her bite of pizza because of her laughing.

"Exactly why I never tried it again," he agreed with her off-hand as he lifted his glass of coke in a mock-cheer. Iris, still smiling, did the same before taking a careful sip to finally swallow the bite of pizza that had been caught in her cheek while laughing. "Didn't stop me from working out, though."

"I at least hope you're more careful now," she added on, lifting her slice up to bite into the crust, the last of the slice that remained.

BT leaned back in his seat and clapped his hand over his heart. "I am. Scouts honour."

Iris discretely raised an eyebrow as she swallowed her bite. "Were any of you actually in the scouts?" she pondered, to which BT just offered a crooked grin and a wink as he dropped his hand and picked up another slice of their pizza. Iris knew that she wasn't going to be able to eat anymore after this slice, having only the appetite for two, but BT was already half-way through his forth as she wiped the grease from her fingers.

"No wonder you're so skinny, you don't eat anything!" BT pointed out once he'd polished off his piece, wiping of his hands as well.

Iris just shrugged her boney shoulders. She'd never really eaten a lot, even before she ran away from home. It was just how she was built; a small amount of food kept her well-fed and energized for enough time to go by before she ate again. Kevin's body was large enough and the alters kept it in good shape, so they probably needed to eat a lot more to keep their physique.

"Just the way I am," she answered. "It makes it much easier when I need to get groceries, since a small amount last me for about two weeks when I'm careful. If you all buy groceries the same way Luke does, it's a wonder you can afford it."

BT snorted at the mention of the other man. "Luke's got no clue what he's doing when it's his turn to do the shopping. This guy will just remember things that everyone's had in the past and buy whatever comes to mind; usually means he's just getting a bunch of junk. I'm pretty sure he spent over a hundred dollars in the snack aisle alone, and forgot to get things like bread, or fruit."

Iris grinned as she thought back to the amount of junkfood that was in his cart; however, she had also spotted a couple of healthier foods, like a bag of apples and some bananas. "Well, you guys are the ones who make him go."

BT let out a groan of complaint as his head dropped back to land on the wall behind his seat—he was too tall for it to hit the cushioned back to their seats. "Don't remind me. And we never learn, either. We always think he'll remember better from the last time, but we're wrong."

Shaking her head, Iris couldn't believe the normalcy that came about when bringing up another one of the personalities in Kevin's body. It was easy to forget that they all shared a body; the way they acted and spoke about one another made it truly seem like they were all individual people, living their everyday lives separately yet in the same home. She never would have been able to guess that this was what it would be like to meet someone with D.I.D, let alone for it to be her soulmates.

Before they could continue the conversation, one of the younger guys that worked there came up to their table, noticing that they had stopped eating the pizza from where he had taken over behind the counter. "Hey, you guys want a to-go box for the rest of that?" he asked with a nod to the remaining half of their pizza.

"Yea, could you divide it into two for us?" BT asked before Iris had a chance to speak, causing her to straighten in surprise. She didn't even get a chance to protest before BT pointed at her in silent warning, mirth colouring his features. "No, you're taking half."

Pursing her lips and holding his stare, she only lasted for two seconds before huffing and leaning back in surrender. The worker chuckled before he collected the pan from the table and took it behind the counter to box up for them. "You eat more than me; I didn't need half of it."

"What kind of gentleman would I be?" he retorted with a smirk.

"Well, you did pay for the entire thing," Iris pointed out, but BT just waved his hand as though to push the comment aside. So far, she hadn't won a single thing when it came to their mini-arguments. She had a strong feeling that the score wasn't to change any time soon. "Thank you, BT. Dinner was amazing; I hadn't had pizza in a while and this was perfect."

BT's expression softened as he gazed into the gentleness of her eyes, knowing how dangerous it could be to get lost in them. "Any time, doll. And I mean that."

Their food was brought back in take-away containers, like mini-pizza boxes, and the two stood up to leave. Iris pulled her coat back on, preparing to head back out into the chill of the day, especially now that it had gotten later and most likely cooler. "You got work again tomorrow?" BT asked as he took the two boxes while she pulled on her gloves.

"Yea, another morning shift," she answered, some of the fatigue entering her tone. "Hopefully a dull day, after this morning," she added on a moment later, smiling to him as they made their way in the direction of the exit. BT made sure to wave at the man behind the counter, shouting a farewell and receiving one in return. "What about you? Work tomorrow?"

"Yea, Barry's got a meeting or something so all the luck to him," he answered easily, having no problem referring to the other alter like it was an everyday occurrence. Although, she supposed that for them it would be.

Iris stuck close to BT as they made their way back in the direction of her apartment, passing her work and all of the other people making their way home for the evening. The conversation between them was light, keeping away from any topics that may dampen the mood from the evening. She deliberately kept away from mentioning work as often as possible, since she noticed it caused him to tense and glare briefly ahead every time he thought about what had happened at her work. He, in turn, avoided bringing up topics pertaining to family and growing up with soulmarks. She didn't outwardly react when such things came up, but he could see it in her eyes that it was drawing dark memories to the surface.

Neither wanted the other to have anything but pleasant thoughts, enjoying the remainder of their time together.

"Thank you for dinner," Iris began with a smile as they approached her building. "And for...everything else."

BT's expression softened as he stopped just shy of her building's front entrance. He wanted so badly for the evening to continue, but they both had responsibilities that they couldn't just forget or put aside. "You've made my life worth it, doll. Especially when I get to see that smile." His admission brought a luminous flush to her cheeks, prompting her to duct her head in embarrassment. "Now, now, none of that."

Shaking her head and trying to relieve the heat in her face, Iris inhaled deeply and stepped forward with whatever courage was left in her. Wrapping her arms tightly around BT's middle, the man was frozen in surprise as she gave him a tight hug, the first touch that she had initiated since they'd met. "Goodnight, BT."

Finally moving, BT returned her embrace and pulled her in even closer as one of his hands stroked along the back of her head. Her hair was soft to the touch, like silk beneath his hand. "'Night, Doll. Sleep well."

Drawing back from one another, Iris peeked up at him through her eyelashes, the ghost of a smile still on her lips, before she turned to head inside with her half of their leftovers. BT remained where he was standing, watching her through the glass window of the door as she turned to the stairwell. Casting one more glance in his direction, he immediately lifted his hand to wave. Her smile bloomed full again as she waved in answer before ducking quickly into the stairwell and out of sight.

BT smiled to himself while turning back the way they'd come, heading toward the zoo. "Oh, we're in trouble now," he muttered to himself, thinking of their little soulmate.

Iris was smiling her entire trip up the stairs, her mood having improved drastically since that morning. BT did an amazing job of taking the edge off of her fear, leaving her feeling safe even after an altercation that was advancing into the physical. Cheeks aching from smiling so long, the taste of pizza still on her tongue and the memory of BT's warmth as she hugged him goodnight were all too good to forget or dampen her mood.

Until she arrived at her apartment.

Stopping short at her door, Iris's face paled at a piece of paper taped to her door.  _Keep them covered_.

She knew that writing. It was her father's writing; messy and thick, in permanent marker with significant pressure behind the writing utensil. Glancing quickly down the hall in fright, there was no one else out of their homes. Even though she knew she was alone, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and Iris quickly ripped the paper from the door, leaving behind the tape and a tiny tear from the page. Darting into her apartment through the minimal space she allowed it to open, the frightened woman immediately turned and began sliding locks into place.

It took significantly longer than usual, her hands shaking terribly and causing her fingers to fumble with the thin locks.

She could hear the shake of her breath through the pounding of her heart; any other outside sound was blocked out. Stepping away after the last lock slid into place, Iris turned to examine her apartment. The rush of blood made it difficult, however, as the edge of her vision blackened and blurred.

Her legs gave out as she approached her bed, leaving her knees to hit the floor with a slam that ricocheted up her bones. She barely felt the pain, however, as her hands slammed against the bed in a desperate attempt to catch herself. Throat tight and lungs burning like they were filled with acid, Iris could feel the terrifying chill beginning to spread up to her cheeks as she struggled against her own body's reaction.

_Breathe. I can't breathe._

From her knees to her hip, Iris's fisted hands tugged her comforter from the bed as she fell, trying desperately to keep herself up in some way. It was useless. Her overactive breathing was taking control, the panic from years and years of memories and fear, all coming back, became too much.  _Too much_. The crinkle of paper from the note still clutched in her hand penetrated her senses, barely audible through the rush of blood and air, but just enough.

_Keep them covered._

Her marks. She'd been careless. At ease with her soulmates, she'd become careless and let herself relax enough to not worry. To not fear. It was the fear that had gotten her this far; fears had kept her safe all these years.

Her back hit the floor as her heavy, hyperactive breaths became distraught wheezes. One hand gripping the paper tight enough to rip and tear it, the other gripping the blanket for some kind of desperate leverage, then Iris's vision faded out completely.

BT stopped in the middle of the street, an odd discomfort starting in his chest. He didn't see the man with angry, whiskey eyes as he marched passed from the direction of his soulmate's apartment.

_Iris whimpered as her father tightened her scarf around her neck to a dangerous degree; she could feel the uncomfortable press against her trachea that caused her breaths to wheeze suddenly. "How many times have I told you? Huh? Keep this damn thing on, or wear the turtlenecks we gave you!"_

_"I...I'm sorry. I was hot," Iris tried to explain, her voice small and pained as she looked down at the floor beneath her father's leather shoes._

_"Shut up," he snapped, preventing her from going any further. "You think I care? I don't. If those damn words hadn't appeared, you wouldn't have to do this now would you?"_

_She knew not to speak against her father, it would end badly, but the words left before her young mind thought the action through, "I don't control them, I didn't make it happen."_

_It didn't take more than a split second for her to regret ever opening her mouth—she should have stayed silent; she'd known to stay silent but for some stupid reason she'd spoken anyway. In the next instant, her father's hand flew across her cheek with such force that she was turned and thrown backward, colliding with the doorframe to the dining room. Her eyebrow split upon impact with the corner of the wood as blood welled to the surface instantly. It was hot against her skin, like someone was pouring hot syrup down her face._

_The feeling was frighteningly familiar by that point._

_"Howard!" her mother shrieked, spotting the blood as Iris dazedly sat on the floor with tears burning in her eyes. A smear of blood on the pristine white of the doorframe marked where her head had struck. "You idiot. How are we going to explain_ that _!" her mother demanded, marching over to Iris and grabbing her upper arm roughly to pull her up from the floor. She didn't care if she caused bruises. Her arms could be covered, those bruises could be hidden._

_Her cheek and eyebrow could not._

_"Fucking brat was talking back. You know I won't stand for any of her bullshit!"_

_Iris was manhandled less than pleasantly in the direction of the bathroom, her mother still shouting at her father. She had school the next day, and she had already been called in sick too many times for people not to begin to suspect. The physical pain was terrible; her head was throbbing and her eye burned where some blood had gotten into it from the split in her brow—she could feel it beginning to swell around the cut. She could already feel her cheek swelling and it was obvious to her that a bruise was soon to form as well._

_The internal pain, the emotion pain, was worse. Her parents did not care one bit that their daughter was bruised and bleeding; they were worried about getting caught as the cause for her injuries. She was a hated freak in her family, meant to be barely seen, never heard, and surely_ never _remembered._

_She had no friends to go to, no family that cared, and no soulmates to match the many marks littering her body._

The pounding in her head was one of the first things that she noticed. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry, with her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her world spun like she'd been drinking for hours. The second thing she noticed was the shriek of her phone's ring, distant and muffled against her spinning senses. The phone remained where she had left it in her bag, which was sitting just next to her front door.

Opening her eyes slowly, and painfully, Iris winced at the seemingly booming volume of her phone. Having been lying on the floor, her back ached and she knew that her knees were going to be bruised from the earlier impact. Even though her breathing and blood-pressure seemed to have evened out once she'd fallen unconscious, Iris could feel her heart beginning to speed in her chest once more. The fear was coming back, gripping her like a monster determined to drag her into the darkness.

Rolling slowly onto her side, Iris flinched at the crumple of paper still in her palm. Chucking the ruined note away from her as though it was aflame, she turned her attention to her discarded bag. Digging into the pockets, she produced her phone only a moment too late as the ringing finally ceased. The caller's identification was still across the screen, however, and Iris swallowed thickly at the 'unknown name, unknown number' that glared back at her.

She didn't receive random calls from those who weren't on her contacts. It wasn't something that she did. And even though she'd given her number to Barry, she'd only kept in contact with him and the other alters via email. Curling onto her side and tiredly drawing her knees up into her chest, Iris released a shuddering breath while attempting to keep herself from having a repeat attack.

Her father had been in her building.

Somehow, without her noticing, he'd been lurking around her like a shadow and had seen her expose her marks. Most likely, he now knew she'd met her soulmates—or in his mind, one of her soulmates. It wasn't likely that he'd realized her soulmate was a sufferer of D.I.D, and therefore combined all twenty-three into one physical body.

A buzz from her phone had her looking down at the device in her hand. The icon for a voicemail was at the top of the screen, setting her heart into immediate overdrive. She did not want to press it. She did not want to know who was calling. Yet, in the same instant, she desperately wished that if she listened to the message it might prove that it was just a wrong number, or a marketer trying to get her money.

Drawing herself slowly into a sitting position while she pulled her comforter around herself—even still wearing her coat and gloves—for warmth and childish reassurance, Iris tapped the icon to open her voicemail.

Entering her passcode and listening to the faint tone that came before a robotic female voice, declaring one new message, Iris tapped on the screen again to listen.

_"Keep them_ covered _. Don't make me tell you again._ "

Gasping in near pain as the phone fell from her hand, Iris leaned back against her heavily as her eyes immediately burned with tears of fear and pain. "I can't do this again," she sobbed to herself, hands immediately clawing into her hair. The scars her body bore had made her strong, that was the truth, but there was nothing else in this world that she feared more than her parents.

Especially her father.

Near the end of living with them, she'd been getting big enough that she could push back against her mother. She could slap her hands away, run before she caught up. Her father, on the other hand, would always be too big for her. He could grab her by one arm and lift her clear off her feet. He'd done it before, throwing her around like she was nothing more than a ragdoll.

"I can't," she sobbed, curling in on herself more tightly. "I can't, I can't, I can't."

_I can't, I'm so sorry but I can't._

Her words to Barry were a haunting memory now, and she hated remembering that she had said that to him. However, it was a dark, glaring window into her mind most of the time.

To think she could be happy. Finding her first soulmate, with two more to follow, she'd thought that the pain of her life was in the past. It had been a serious error on her part to think that she'd be able to just be happy, to finally have the life she used to dream about as a child. Those dreams were what inspired her to run away in the first place. And the torment of living on the streets, her parents nowhere in sight, had given her enough time to think that she was free.

She didn't know how long they'd been aware of her, how long they'd known exactly where she was, but it terrified Iris to think that all along, while she'd been under the assumption that her parents were one of the few frights she didn't need to worry about, they'd been right there.

Her nightmares were coming back. Her monsters were emerging from the shadows right when she'd begun to let her guards down.

She didn't notice the email icon the popped up on her phones screen, taking over where the voicemail notification had been.


	12. For the Love of Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this entire chapter while listening to OneRepublic - Let's Hurt Tonight on repeat. Amazing song, definitely recommend it!

No sleep.

Not one hour of sleep through the entire night.

Iris had shadows under her eyes as she looked down at her phone, sitting in the middle of her bed, wrapped in her duvet, with the large clock display glaring back at her. Taunting her. Red rimmed her eyes from the tears she had shed the night before, only making her appearance all the more haggard and worrying. She had to go to work. She had to open the store on time. Looking away from the clock, the woman's attention instead centered on the email icon on the top of the screen.

She'd never opened it, never even checked who had sent it.

The more obvious answer was that it was sent by Barry, Luke or BT—most likely BT, since they had just parted ways shortly before she'd received it. However, after what she had found on her door the night before and the voicemail left on her phone, Iris no longer believed that it was the obvious, first answer.

Locking the screen on her phone, she tossed the device to the end of her bed as her lips trembled. Could she really keep this up? Could she stay with her soulmates, trying for happiness again, if it meant that her parents would know what she was doing and possibly punish her for it? Taking a breath to try and calm herself, Iris slipped out of her duvet-cocoon and headed into the bathroom. She would need to shower before work, and she was desperately in need of some time to clear her head.

She turned on the hot water before stepping back and beginning to strip off her clothes, which she had left on for too long. Her hair was oily from her hands running through it relentlessly all night, and she was hoping that a nice, steamy shower would help her to get rid of the haggard look she had acquired. Refusing to look in the mirror—already knowing how disgusting she would look—Iris pushed her clothing aside with her foot.

Stepping into the shower, water hot enough that her skin stung momentarily upon contact, Iris let her forehead come to rest on the tiles of the shower.

She needed to check that email; it was a no-brainer, and she knew that it was something she couldn't delay on any further. There was nothing more that she hoped for that to open that email and find that it was from one of her soulmates.

Iris wasn't sure she could take her mother or father stepping into any more parts of her life.

Sighing against the steam, Iris tipped her head back into the water and let it cascade through her hair. Weighing it down immediately, she simply stood beneath the spray for a moment as she let the feeling of the water wash away the stress she had carried through the night. The fatigue wouldn't wash away, she knew that, but the water helped her to feel...clean. Like her troubles, her fears, were washing away with every drop of scalding water; burning them off her skin.

Picking up her bottle of soap, she dutifully began cleaning her hair. The movements were robotic, mechanical and heavily rehearsed as her body ran on auto-pilot.

More than ten years had passed since she'd left her parents behind; she thought that she had rid herself of the greatest fear, greatest pain that would ever come to her. Yet...they were back. And they were the same. They felt the need to control who she was, to take hold of her life and use her like a puppet hanging from strings.

Tipping her head back under the spray of water to let the thick suds of soap rinse out, her slender fingers began combing through the soft, tangle-free strands.

She was  _not_  a puppet.

Turning to look through the glass door of the shower, her eyes fell on the mirror that was steadily fogging up around the edges, steam taking over every surface in her bathroom. Water cascaded down off her chin, her hair plastered down to her neck and shoulders, with her makeup making the shadows beneath her eyes that much more prominent.

Along her torso, shoulders, arms, hips—all over her body—the dark writing of twenty-three soulmates, twenty-three identities, proved that she was not alone anymore. She didn't need to face her parents by herself. Barry had explained that he and the other alters had been created for the soul purpose to protect Kevin. Turning her eyes away from her reflection, Iris took a moment to remember his arms around her when they had returned to her apartment.

She'd been honest with him; exposing her deepest secret that she was so ashamed to admit. Living as a homeless teenager, having left before she'd finished high-school, fighting for herself and sharing beds with strangers in women's shelters. He's just held her, and supported her as she fell apart. It had felt...liberating. Telling someone her story and feeling his acceptance, listening to his promises as he calmed her sobs.

_Ain't nothing going to get you now. You've got us on your side, and we protect our own._

That was a new concept.

Protection. Parents were meant to protect their children, yet they were the ones that she needed to be protected from now. And the ironic thing was that they were going against the soulmates that they had always told her would never want her. After all, who would want to share one, useless girl among twenty-some odd people? She almost wanted to laugh—if only they knew the truth.

Reaching up to caress Barry's words coiling her bicep, she knew that his words rang true. He was not the kind of person to make a promise and not follow through. Whether she'd known him a lifetime or a day, she could see that trait in an instant.

Turning off the water, Iris stepped from the shower and stood in front of the mirror, still able to see her reflection through the faint layer of moisture. Turing around and twisting her torso just right, neck craning so she could see over her shoulder, her whiskey eyes fell on the black writing in the center of her back. Luke's kind words and sweet nickname stared back at her, bold and confident to match the speaker.

Facing her left side toward the mirror again, Iris smiled faintly as her fingers came to trace BT's words, etched over her ribs as they followed the natural curve of her breast. He'd been so open with his marks, no fear of showing them to her.

To the world.

Thinking about his body, the body of all of her soulmates, covered in her writing like a brand of ownership caused her to flush with something akin to pride. They were hers. She'd never thought the day would come that she was able to say that someone was  _hers_. And BT was one to flaunt it happily, proud to show that he had a soulmate—they all had a soulmate—and they had finally met one another after so many years of 'almost'.

Snatching her towel, Iris steeled herself and marched from her bathroom. She was not going to say that she wasn't afraid—her parents terrified her more than anything else. Yet, she wasn't alone to face them anymore. Drying off and pulling on her clothes for her shift, the whiskey eyed woman snatched her phone from her bed as she stepped up into her kitchen to begin preparing a small, light breakfast.

Sliding down the notification tab before she could stop herself, she let out a shuddering, relieved sigh when BT's email address came up with the title 'Everything Alright?' just above it. Tapping on the icon as she picked a packet of oatmeal from the cabinet, Iris leaned back nervously as his email loaded on her phone's screen. The hot shower had helped her somewhat, but she was still dead-tired and her stomach seemed like it was against her trying to eat at that moment.

_Hey Doll,_

_I just wanted to check to make sure you were alright? I don't really know how to explain it, but I got a bad feeling while I was walking home and I just wanted to check to make sure you were okay? I'm no expert on all this soulmate stuff, but that kind of thing happens, right? Like, a connection that we have?_

_I'm totally overreacting, right? Get back to me when you can, please? I'll feel better and put it down to heartburn if you tell me you're fine._

_Have a good night, Doll, sweet dreams._

_-BT_

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Iris could feel the deep pit of fear in her stomach alleviate somewhat. It hadn't been her parents. Knowing for sure that it had been BT made her feel like she'd been a fool, not opening the notification all night, and when BT had seemed so worried, too. Guilt and embarrassment fought in her as she opened a new email to him, but paused before actually typing.

_Morning, BT_

_I'm so sorry for not replying sooner, it's been a bit of a bad night. I found something at my apartment when I got home that scared me a bit, but I'm alright now. I've read about connections between soulmates that allow for sensations like that, but I never knew anyone personally who have experienced it. I'm sorry that you were so worried, and I'm sorry if I ruined your night with it._

Iris paused again as she read over what she had said. He'd be worried now, but she didn't want to lie to him. She wasn't that kind of person, and she refused to become that kind of person with her soulmates of all people.

_I'm scared, BT. My parents found me; my father left a note on my apartment door and a voicemail on my phone. He wants me to keep my marks covered, like I used to before I first met Barry._

_But I don't want to. Not anymore._

_I have to go to work soon, but I'll talk to you again._

_-Iris_

Hitting send, she dropped her phone on the counter as her hands trembled. She'd never thought that she would actually admit to that. But now he knew—which means that they would probably all know. If one of them thought that she was in trouble, she didn't doubt that it was going to be told to the others immediately.

Huffing softly, she turned to replace the packet back into the box. She'd never be able to keep food down at the moment. Instead, she started going through the motions of making herself a soft, herbal tea that would hopefully control her anxiety. She popped the kettle on the stove and placed her diffuser, filled with tea leaves, into her travel mug before she moved to pick her phone back up.

Scrolling down to Barry's contact and selecting a new email, she hopped up onto the counter as she considered what to say.

_Good morning, Barry!_

_BT's let slip that you had a meeting today; I don't know if it's too important or just a regular thing but I wanted to wish you luck either way. Good luck, have a great day at work, and I hope to hear back from you soon._

_-Iris_

Double-checking the email for errors, she soon sent that one out as well.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly and rotating her sore neck—sitting up so many hours was beginning to come back to haunt her—she sat patiently on her counter as she waited for her water to finish boiling. Pulling her schedule up on her phone, Iris spent the last few minutes going over what shifts she had, and who was going to be working with her for each of them. There were also a few shipments coming in throughout the week, so there would be a lot of work to do to keep her busy.

Letting her mind go over everything she had to do that day, she went through the motions of making her tea to take with her.

Less than an hour later, Iris had her travel-mug in one hand, her scarf wrapped around her neck and her bag slung over her shoulder. Hair brushed and makeup applied, she felt somewhat better about how she looked. She'd barely spared a glance at the tear of tape and paper that remained stuck to her door before she pulled it off, folded it, and tossed it aside for the cleaners to pick up later. She'd deliberately left her gloves sitting on her unmade bed, leaving her hands bare and her mark exposed to the world around her.

Her marks gave her  _strength_.

Her soulmates gave her  _confidence_.

Her parents gave her  _purpose_  to defy those who would judge her.

Taking a deep, steadying breath as she stopped at the base of the stairs, Iris tried to prepare herself for what was to come. This was the decision she was making for herself; she would defy her fears, and those who caused such fears, if it meant that she had a chance to chase her happiness. Transferring her travel-mug to her other hand, she looked down at the writing on the back of her palm, so small and perfect.

_Sh, sh, shh, quiet now._

Pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, using those words to draw whatever strength and courage she had left in her, Iris pushed open the stairwell door and made her way down the small corridor to the front entrance. Her keys were safely tucked in her pocket, easily accessed in case she ran into her father. Whether or not she would actually be able to use any of the self-defence techniques taught to her by the other girls of the shelters, she didn't know. But he was officially a threat once more, so she needed to be prepared for that outcome.

The cold morning air greeted her as she stepped from her old building, her scarf protecting her delicate neck from the chill as she turned around and let the door shut with an assuring click. She couldn't watch out for every person that entered her building, even though there was a lock at the front door for a reason, but it somehow helped her to feel better by knowing there was even just that small security.

Turning in the direction of her work, eyes lifting from the dew-covered pavement to check if there was anyone else up so early in the morning, she gasped as her eyes landed on the darkly dressed figure standing a few feet from her.

"Barry!" she huffed, her heart racing in her chest as she turned back to the door and leaned against it to try and relieve the shaking that had suddenly taken over her legs. "God, you scared me," she muttered, probably too quiet for him to hear, and rolled her head against the glass to watch as he approached her. His expression was pinched as he walked up to her trembling form, her hand clutching her travel-mug against her chest.

"Iris," he started carefully, gently taking her upper arm to pull her away from the door and face him fully. "BT told me about your email," he continued after a brief moment. His voice was hoarse and he sounded tired, the faint appearance of shadows beneath his eyes causing her to frown. Reaching up with her marked hand, she gently traced a fingertip beneath his soft blue eyes.

"I kept you up again," she realized. BT had said he'd felt something was wrong; of course he'd stay up in worry for her when she never answered him. "I'm sorry."

Bowing her head as shame gripped her, the brunette leaned into Barry as he automatically opened his arms to her. Feeling him around her again, strong and secure, let her relax as she inhaled the scent that was unique to him—different from another other man out there, even Luke and BT, same body be damned.

"Iris, I want you to know that if  _anything_  ever happens, no matter how small, we are  _here_. Send a text to the number I gave you, or call, and no matter who has the light we will  _come for you_." Barry's assurances helped to sooth her guilt, but she couldn't entirely shake the feeling that came with knowing she had caused them such worry.

Pulling back from her, Barry's hands came to frame her face as he looked down at her and took in the tired look of her eyes. She'd spent the entire night in fear, and it made him feel sick with regret that they hadn't known better and had come for her. "Next time, I promise I'll call."

Smiling faintly, the expression not quite relieving the sadness in his eyes, Barry nodded. "You better. Or we'll be showing up uninvited."

Iris mirrored his archaic smile. "You better," she offered teasingly. Then her smile disappeared as her eyes grew worried. "Your meeting!"

"No, don't worry," he interrupted, not giving her time to fret. "The zoo doesn't open for a few hours, I've still got lots of time before my shift. I just couldn't not see you. I was too worried—we all were."

Iris winced again, the guilt gripping her heart. "Sorry."

Barry shook his head with a smile. Of course she'd feel guilty about them being worried. "Stop apologizing," he ordered with a faint laugh. The tenseness around them dissipated as he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss against her forehead. "So, want some company on your walk?" Stepping back and offering her his arm, the gentlemanly, cliché action was enough to have her laughing as she looped her arm through his. Her hand cupped his bicep as they began walking, her mark on display to anyone out on the early-morning streets.

"Will you be okay, Iris?" Barry asked in all seriousness as he looked down at her. He didn't want to bring up her parents, especially her father, but he couldn't just let the topic slide away. She'd confessed to BT that she was scared, and they had felt her fear all through the night like a hand was slowly squeezing their life away.

Sighing softly as she leaned into his side, her hand tightened on his bicep and her head fell to rest on his shoulder for a moment.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "My father is the most terrifying thing in my life; the monster in my closet and under my bed. Knowing that he was...so close, all this time, it terrifies me. And I don't know what he'll do. I'm not his child anymore, he can't just pull me off and lock me in a room like they used to. But...what will he do? The not knowing is what scares me most."

Barry's head came to rest atop hers as he supressed the urge to tense up and punch something. He wasn't a violent person, not usually, but her parents were driving his thoughts to darker places. "I can walk you home, or to work, when I can—I know it's not much but-"

"It's perfect," she assured. "But you just said you have a couple of hours before your shift. I'm not making you and any of the others get up so early because of me. You all have lives as well, and I refuse to ruin that."

"Doesn't count if we're offering," he countered. "And believe me, any one of the others would be more than happy to walk you to work, or home at the end of the day. Everyone wants to meet you so badly, and those that have are vying for a bit of attention."

Iris flushed after his confession. "Thank you, Barry, for coming here this morning...and for just being here, period."

Smiling in assurance, he leaned over to rest his forehead against hers, pinching his neck slightly in the process but by no means regretting it. "Always, Sweetheart. Always."


	13. Let the Morning Keep Our Secrets

Barry did as promised and walked Iris all the way to her work; unfortunately, she wasn't allowed to let him inside since the store didn't officially open for another hour, so they had to say their goodbyes as they stood outside the back entrance to the building. Iris already had her work keys in hand, the jingling of metal the only sound in the empty alleyway. He hadn't let her go since they'd linked arms, Iris only moved her arm when the chill had gotten to her fingers. Instead of letting her pull away, though, Barry had lifted his other hand and placed it over hers to protect it from the chill.

"I work late tonight," he started, sounding almost guilty for the way his schedule had been put. "I can't..."

"Don't worry," Iris assured immediately, stepping away from him so they were face to face as her hand moved down to link their fingers loosely. "Jessica and I finish at the same time today and she lives a street down from where I live; I'll ask her to walk home with me."

Barry relaxed and offered a relieved smile, squeezing her warmed fingers while simultaneously pulling her in closer. It was becoming second nature to her, willingly stepping in against that body—it didn't matter which soulmate it was, even if the body were to change with each one, the comfort was the same.

Barry's lips came to rest against her forehead again, bringing a butterfly sensation to Iris's stomach as she fought against a grin of unabashed happiness. "You're okay for your meeting, right? Please tell me you got some sleep." She sincerely hoped that this wasn't going to happen on a regular basis; the guilt of taking the night from Barry and the others would absolutely eat away at her.

"I'm just fine, Sweetheart," he soothed, using his free hand to stroke her hair gently. "I'll get some coffee on my way over, everything'll work out. Plus, I get tomorrow off so I'll catch up on some sleep then."

Nodding along, Iris tried to push aside her guilt as she glanced to the metal door that made up the back entrance of the store. "I need to clock in soon, so I should be getting inside." Glancing down at the keys in her free hand, she fiddled with them a moment to get the correct key between her fingers. There was only one deadbolt on the door itself, but there was also an alarm system that would go off if the correct code wasn't inputted within thirty seconds of opening the door.

"Remember; call me if  _anything_  happens," Barry pressed, looking down at the adorable expression of focus on Iris's face as she tried to select the right key without dropping the entire thing, all with one hand since her other was still linked with his in a warm, assuring hold.

Unable to resist one more chance, Barry leaned forward to kiss her cheek goodbye. Iris, unaware of his intention, turned her head to answer his comment in the same moment. His lips skimmed her cheek from the action, brushing against the corner of her mouth in the process. Her heart immediately sped up at the contact, causing heat to rise to her cheeks as a blush bloomed under her skin in response. Both of them pulled back suddenly, not having expected for either of their innocent actions to lead to an almost-kiss.

Barry looked ready to apologize, afraid that she would think something terrible of him—as much as the thought of kissing her was deeply appealing, he knew that someone as afraid and damaged as Iris would need time. And he was going to give her as long as she needed. However, she didn't look afraid or panicked; she looked flustered. Blushing and holding her breath, her lips were parted just slightly in shock as she looked up at him with an unreadable expression.

So, instead of apologizing, an amused smile quirked at his lips. "That blush is adorable," he teased gently.

Iris gasped slightly before she pursed her lips to hide her own smile. "I-I have work!" she declared suddenly, cursing herself for stuttering as she turned back to the door again.

Barry didn't let her get away that easily, however, and use their linked hands to pull her back to him as he kissed her temple as he had intended, his other hand cradling her head gently. She was so small, her cheek and jaw fit perfectly into the cradle of his hand, palm warm against her chilled cheek. "Have a good day, Sweetheart. Let me know what you're home safe?"

Her blushing cheeks burned as she promised to text him the second she was safely in her apartment. Barry finally released her and stood waiting as she unlocked the door before disappearing quickly inside with one final flash of a smile over her shoulder. The metal door fell between them with a resounding slam, the deadbolt sliding back into place and then the back alley was silent.

Releasing a breath to try and calm his racing heart, Barry closed his eyes and ducked his head as his hand came up to cover his mouth. He hadn't intended for any of that to happen, but there was no way he was going to regret it. The softness of her skin was branded into his mind, leaving him short of breath as he tried not to think too hard on it.

When BT's discomfort had been brought to their attention the previous night, all of the alters were left on edge. They may not have been the one in control, but to have something so obviously wrong left each of them in discomfort. They'd each done their research on soulmates and the bonds shared between them. In the case of multiples, the bond was usually stronger because of the many connections weaving and interlacing between several people.

Their situation was slightly different, since they were more than just a three-way or four-way soulbond—they were not bonded to one another, only to Iris and Iris to them. However, seeing as they did share one body, with Iris's many words covering the expanse of that body, the connection was more than likely just as strong. She has only met three of them. That would mean that their bond was three times as strong as someone with only one mark.

Her panic and fear had come through like a deep, uncomfortable feeling of forbidding to them. Fear and doubt sitting in their gut like poison all through the night.

She hadn't slept at all. He knew that; he'd known even before seeing her face. There was no way that the discomfort could have lasted through the night if she had slept; with sleep would have come even just a small amount of peace for her. That never came; he and the others would have felt it. Iris wasn't one to cover her face with makeup, either, so the shadows beneath her eyes and unhealthy pallor of her skin confirmed his fears as soon as he'd seen her leave her apartment building.

Turning away from the back door of her work, Barry made his way onto the main sidewalk once more, passing by the front window as he did so. Iris was nowhere to be seen, but he could see some lights on in the depths of darkness that made up the bookstore so early in the morning.

He wouldn't let this happen again. None of them would.

He'd been surprised that he was able to keep hold of the light after BT had passed it along to him. Dennis especially had been on edge, sitting more rigidly in his chair than Barry had seen in quite a while. He'd always been the one to take over when things were happening to Kevin, keeping their original identity safe and therefore assuming the role of protector over not only Kevin, but all of them.

The thought of Iris being in fear or in danger brought up the protective instincts like never before, and Barry had kept a careful eye on the shadowy form of Dennis while as he glared deeply at the floor in the center of their circle of chairs. Back straight, legs slightly splayed and arms crossed firmly across his chest, he looked a dangerous mix of patient and ready to spring up at any moment.

Sighing softly as he turned at a street corner, Barry knew that he needed to do something before Dennis did the same as BT and took off after Iris one day.

With her parents back in the picture, however, he knew that it was going to be nearly impossible to stop all of the alters from going against his orders.

Glancing back in the direction he had come, Barry silently wished for Iris's day to go on uninterrupted and safely boring.

Inside the store, Iris was humming to herself as she set up the register and double-checked who was going to be coming in at what time that day. She also sent out several emails to confirm shipments times and dates, her fingers flying skillfully over the keys as her lips mouthed the words that she was typing, all while she musically calmed herself and tried to distract against the terrifying silence of the store.

Hitting send on the last email, Iris had only just reached for her phone to check for any messages when it started to ring and Jessica's name popped up.

"Good morning," she greeted, trying not to sound too tired. She was already slouching down in her seat, ruining her posture but just too fatigued to do much about it.

" _Hey, I'm at the back door. You already in?_ "

"Yea, just one sec and I'll let you in."

Jessica chirped a happy response before hanging up, letting Iris put her phone down and log out of the company email. Pushing back from the desk in the back office, she hurried back to the door that she had entered through shortly before and slid the deadlock aside to push the heavy metal open. Jessica was huddled into her too-thin spring jacket as she smiled at Iris in greeting, cheeks reddened from her walk over.

"Morning!" she breathed out, hurrying into the warm building as she shook out her chilled limbs. "Jeez, I wasn't expecting it to be so cold today!"

"Why on earth are you wearing such a thin jacket?" Iris responded, shaking her head. "It's not that close to summer! There was snow on the ground just the other week, remember?"

Peeling her jacket off as they made their way back into the store, heading for the breakroom, Jessica laughed at Iris's scolding, motherly tone. "Yea,  _mom_ , I know. I just hate the feeling of my winter coat, it's so huge. And by the time we get off work it's warm enough to not even need a jacket anymore." Hanging her coat and bag in her locker, she gave Iris the side-eye as she continued. "Us normal people, at least. You're always bundled up so tight I worry you'll get heat stroke!"

Huffing at the younger woman's tone, Iris leaned against the doorframe as she crossed her arms over her chest. Jessica's eyes darted down to her hand briefly, showing her amazing restraint when she didn't stare openly at the back of her pale hand, black writing on full display. Iris had forgone her usual work gloves, not actually needing them while she was only typing out some emails and arranging the register at the front.

"I've gotten used to it. I think if I wore sleeveless shirts now I'd freeze to death."

It wasn't really a lie, either. Her parents had always had her in long-sleeved tops since her first arm mark had popped up when she was a kid. They'd even use band-aids and semi-permanent make-up on the back of her hand. She'd spent so long with her skin covered; heat no longer bothered her like it once had. However, she'd had the unfortunate experience of passing out from heat-stroke a few times before that had happened. When the school brought up their concerns, they'd always spin it around on her.  _She just wouldn't leave the house without it!_

Jessica stilled as she pocketed her work knife and marker, easily accessible from the back pocket of her jeans. "Iris...are you hiding soulmarks?" she finally posed in a quiet, hesitant voice while fidgeting with her shirt hem.

There is was; the question she'd been waiting for.

Iris's expression didn't change as she met Jessica's worried eyes. She didn't confirm, but she didn't deny, either. Holding one another's gazes across the space of the small breakroom, Jessica knew the answer to her question without Iris having to speak a word or flash an emotion.

"I have two, you know?" she continued after the silence stretched on with no sign of her manager deciding to answer. Iris blinked at the woman's confession, eyebrows rising slightly in a show of surprise. "One's on my leg, so it's always covered by my pants. The other's on my left side, near my pants. People sometimes see that one, but they're both pretty easy to just live life without people asking." Switching out her shoes as she spoke, Iris did nothing more than stand back as she listened to her coworkers words.

Glancing down at her hand, Iris wasn't exactly sure how to take the other woman's confession.

"I can't really speak from experience about having people know that I'm part of a triad, but those that do know don't judge. And they make up for the ones that do."

Iris sighed softly as she changed her posture to lean her back fully against the wall as her fingers carded nervously through her hair. "It's not that easy."

Nodding in understanding, Jessica remained sitting on the bench located in front of the lockers. "I know. But there's always somewhere to begin, you know? I hadn't met either of them yet, but I know that my friends are gunna be there for me when I do."

The florescent lights caught Iris's eyes as she looked up again, making them look amber in the artificial light. "It's not that easy," she repeated quietly, before pulling up the sleeve of her over-shirt. The first thing that Jessica saw was the long scar running through the mark along the outside of her arm. Her breath hitched at the sight, before she began counting.  _Wrist, outer arm, inner arm, back palm._

Four?

No.

Iris didn't stop. She pulled up the sleeve of her other arm as well, showing an additional two marks on her right forearm, also in different writing to show Jessica that there were at least six different soulmates for Iris. Another mark was then revealed on her bicep, winding around the thinly muscled upper arm. Seven. Jessica was left staring in awe at her friend's bared skin, stark white from lack of sun exposure and divided by the different clusters of black writing.

"See?" Iris asked quietly, holding out her arms as example. "Not that easy."

"Oh, Iris," Jessica breathed softly, finally understanding the way that the woman carried herself. "I'm so sorry."

Shaking her head, the brunette pulled her shirt-sleeves down to cover her bare arms up again, hiding the writing from Jessica's shocked eyes. "My parents are unmarked. I was never allowed to show them—it's a hard habit to break."

Swallowing thickly as she bowed her head, Jessica was suddenly so grateful to only have two marks. Her parents only had one another, but they at least had a soulmark that helped them to look passed their daughter having one extra. For someone with so many, having unmarked parents must have made life a living hell for Iris.

There were very few unmarked out there that were kind to those with soulmarks, but even those rare few would react badly to Iris's half-dozen soulmates. She'd heard of people who had more than three actually being attacked and murdered, all because they were destined to be with more people than the unmarked deemed fair.

Standing up and reaching for Iris, the younger woman took her hands gently and offered her a sad, sympathetic smile. "I know it's not much, but I'm here if you need me. I...I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you, and still like now. But  _I am here_. No matter what other people say or do, I'll never turn you away because of this."

Using her thumbs, Jessica lifted Iris's sleeves up just slightly, exposing her wrist marks again. "If you have this many marks...just means you have more love in you than anyone else out there. You and your soulmates."

Simple though her words were, they warmed Iris's heart to know that not everyone out there were as cruel as some she had met in the past. So far, Karen and Jessica were the only ones that were not marked to her that knew of her many soulmarks—although, not the full extent of them—and had been kind and accepting. Even going so far as to offer help when possible.

Exhaling softly, Iris smiled back as she felt some weight lift off of her shoulders. Time and time again, she kept thinking how much her soulmates had changed her. This was yet another thing; she was no longer hiding in fear from her parents. He'd told her not to show her marks, so she'd left her apartment without her gloves, she'd shown Jessica some of the black on her pale skin, and she was determined to continue her progress.

"We should get back to work," she declared suddenly, pulling her hands back and glancing toward the clock that was hung on the wall. "Open's at eight, so we've got a few minutes."

"You okay, Iris?" Jessica called before she could escape the room completely. "I mean...after what happened yesterday, and now you're showing me your marks...what changed?"

Taking a moment, Iris decided that Jessica was someone she didn't mind telling. "The man from yesterday, the one who helped me, he's one of my soulmates," she confessed. Jessica expression lit up again and a smile came across her face. "He's one of three I've met recently, actually."

"That's great, Iris!" she cheered. "Congrats! I mean, I've heard about how great it is to meet them at last, so I'm kind of jealous now."

Iris's cheeks warmed at Jessica's excited outburst. "I just don't want to hide anymore. They're helping me to realize that I'm not alone. I'm not a kid anymore that has to do as she's told."

Jessica's excitement softened to a proud smile, her hands tucking into the pockets of her jeans as she nodded her head. "I'm glad, Iris. You deserve to be happy, and I'm glad you're finally getting your chance. I'm with you, too, so if you ever need to talk without worrying about soulmates getting too involved then I'm all ears."

If only she knew. Would she still think that way if Iris told her that her soulmates all shared the same body?

"Thank you, Jess."

Jessica smiled once more before she moved to unpack her lunch from her bag, while Iris went to check for any email responses before the opened for the day. They would be holding down the store for an hour by themselves before anyone else was so clock in, so they both silently prayed for a quiet start to the day that wouldn't overwhelm them.

Sitting at the back desk and logging in to the store's email, Iris realized that she had forgotten to ask Jessica to walk home with her at the end of their shift. Making a mental note to bring it up with the younger woman, knowing that Jessica often made plans after her shift, Iris let herself focus on the task at hand while keeping an eye on the clock for store opening.


	14. Small Wonders

Iris was blissfully distracted for most of the day, running between the front counter and the back door as the first of several shipments arrived. Jessica, Chris and Alexandra were the main workers with her that day, and she was so thankful to have at least one guy since majority of the boxes weighed more than Iris's total body weight. Alex had been the only one to really react when she'd spotted Iris's soulmark on the back of her hand, but Jessica had been quick to shoo her away. Her work gloves had been pulled on after that, since they would be dealing with boxes and books and Iris would rather go without any unnecessary cuts than prove a point to her parents.

Alex had even shown up later on, looking thoroughly chastised, and apologized for her reaction to Iris's mark. When she'd glanced into the aisles, she'd spotted Jessica watching Alex with an intense stare and was overwhelmed with gratitude toward the other woman.

"Have a great day," Iris called as she waved to a mother and son on their way to the exit, "Hope to see you soon!" The mother turned back with a smile as her son darted outside to show his father his new book, cheering about superheroes.

"Finally quieting down?" Jessica called from her place on a ladder, neatly organizing the new displays that they were putting up around the front entrance and registers. "Of course the busiest day we have in a month is the same day we get a huge shipment."

"Fate plays cruel games," Chris teased from the other side of the shelf, out of view but still clearly heard due to the natural strength and volume of his voice. "At least you two are almost done!"

Iris shook her head with a smile as she resumed scanning through the new books and inputting them into the system, or recording the increased number for the items they already had. "You're the one who never wants to do the opening shift because you'd rather sleep in," she called back, getting a snort from Jessica as the woman got off her ladder to move on to the lower shelf.

"Hey, I am a night owl, okay? I work better when it's dark."

"It is dark when we get here," Jessica snapped back. "And Iris usually beats me by half an hour most days."

Pushing the finished box aside for Alex to pick up when she finished organizing free space on the shelves, Iris grinned into her work. "Are you guys still jealous of the perks of being a manager?"

"No," the chimed in simultaneously, with Chris poking his head around the shelf.

"Thought so," Iris mumbled smartly while carefully slicing her x-acto knife through the tape atop a new box, parting the folds of cardboard while dialing the blade back so she didn't cut herself when slipping the knife into her pocket. "Alex, new box for you!"

"Jeez, slow down!" Alex called from deeper in the store, before she rounded the shelves with a tired expression. "Give some to Chris, would ya?"

"These are for your section," Iris explained with a grin, pushing the finished box closer to Alex's approaching form. "And it's a small box, see?"

Sighed in withheld complaint, Alex hefted the new box into her arms and turned back to her own work as the bell over the door chimed with a new customer. Iris called her usual greeting as she looked up to the older man that entered, walking carefully with a cane as he smiled back. "I'm hoping you sell journals; my granddaughter's birthday is coming up and she has about a dozen of those things."

Smiling at the man's thoughtfulness, Iris pointing down the far aisle that had 'Journals, Sketchbooks, Creative Paper' hanging at the front. "You can find all you're looking for down aisle one, and we even have an assortment of pens and other writing utensils she might like. They're at the back wall at the very end of the aisle."

The man thanked her happily before he disappeared around the shelves, leaving the three coworkers alone at the front once more.

Jessica descended from her ladder and commenced with cutting the bottom of her empty box open as she approached Iris's busy form. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked quietly, not wanting to draw Chris's attention. He already knew that there had been something from yesterday; being a guy, he unofficially assumed the responsibility of keeping everyone safe, and had been informed that someone had caused trouble for the morning shift.

"It's nice to keep busy," she answered honestly, looking up from her screen. "Hey, I forgot to ask earlier but do you want to talk home together today?" Jessica's face pinched slightly in discomfort, not wanting to turn Iris down—the whiskey eyed woman already knew her answer from that expression alone. "You have plans," she guessed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"That's fine, I just wanted to ask in case you were free."

"I can cancel-"

Shaking her head, Iris held up her hand to interrupt. "Don't you dare. Honestly, it's fine. It's still broad daylight, and I'm a grown woman; walked home alone many times before."

Jessica was still frowning, but nodded her head as she folded her flattened box awkwardly. "If you're sure..."

With only a half an hour left on their shift, Iris and Jessica both worked quickly to get through the rest of their work, arranging for the others to take over once they'd left. Chris gladly came to the counter to take over Iris's work, while Alex relieved Jessica of her display work. Sarah was going to be arriving to help with the evening shift as well, so Iris wasn't so worried about the work load. Jessica continued to give her worried glances as they were preparing to leave in the breakroom, but she didn't say a thing more about Iris walking home.

"I'll see you tomorrow?

"Yea, have a good evening," Jessica answered quietly, offering a small smile as Iris pulled her bag over her shoulder and left the younger woman to herself. Waving to Chris as she passed the front counter, Sarah was just arriving at the front entrance and happily held the door open for her.

"Have a good evening, Iris!" Sarah called happily as Iris stepped out into the chilly air, waving at the other woman over her shoulder before she turned her attention to the sidewalk before her.

For once, she was relieved that the streets were filled with people as she made her way into the thick of the crowd. Most people were finishing their own jobs for the day, making it the perfect time for Iris to blend in with everyone else. However, that didn't stop her from darting her attention between the faces around her, desperately hoping that neither of her parents showed up in the midst of everyone.

Adjusting her bag and slipping her hand into her pockets, Iris did her best to try and relax her muscles. The business of the store had kept her distracted throughout the day, which also helped her to forget just how tired she was. Her back and shoulders ached from sitting up all night, and her head was throbbing faintly with an oncoming headache. It made her worry that she was distracting Barry at work, but she knew that there was nothing she could do about it until she got home.

A warm tea and a thick blanket were in her future, and she sighed softly against the cold air at the thought.

Darting from the path of someone else rushing passed her, Iris couldn't help the abrupt lock of her muscles from momentary fear.

This was  _not_  how she wanted to live! She had left that life behind years ago, taking hold of her own fate when she decided that she could rather face the streets than her own family. The decision to live how she wanted, even now with the return of her parents, was something she was not going to give up.

However, making the decision to no longer fear them and to actually stop being afraid were two very different things. As much as she wished she could mentally will away her fears, it was going to take much more than that. She knew that it was at least a start. Going out in public, seeing men who somewhat resembled her father, showing her marks; she wanted the chance to live through things without the same paralyzing fear that was with her now.

Swallowing against the sudden dryness in her mouth, Iris shook her shoulders gently to relieve some of the tension that was causing them to ache.

Arriving at her building a few minutes later, Iris tried not to tense up again after having remained at ease for majority of her walk home. However, the reminder of what she had come home to the day before caused her heart to speed up suddenly and her hands began to sweat. Taking the stairs more slowly than usual, she dreaded what she might find on her door.

Pushing open the stairwell exit, Iris nervously glanced up and down the hallway, coming up with an empty corridor.

Once she was sure that there was no one else around, especially her father, Iris stepped toward her apartment door and sighed with relief to see that there was no note taped in place. Unlocking her door and slipping inside as her body sagged with relief, Iris couldn't help but to feel the overwhelming urge to cry.

She tried to be brave, she tried to fight this, but facing her greatest fear wasn't without its struggles.

Inhaling deeply to calm herself, she shrugged off her coat gently and placed her cellphone on her bed as she toed off her boots. Hanging the garment up carefully, making sure that the buttons were done up to keep the coat in good shape, Iris snatched her cellphone up as she moved to the kitchen to heat some water for the tea she had been fantasizing about.

Pulling up her email once it was on the stove burner, Iris quickly messaged Barry with assurance that she was home and nothing eventful had happened throughout the day. She also made sure to tell him not to worry if she did not reply to him later on, since she was intending to go to sleep once she'd eaten something.

At least she knew that if her night was uneventful, Barry and the others would get a full night of sleep as well. "My fault," she muttered quietly.

Another email was sent to BT, thanking him for telling Barry what she could not.

She wasn't sure how she would have felt throughout the day if Barry hadn't been there to make her feel more confident in her decision that morning. Watching the beginning wisps of steam coming from the spout of the kettle, Iris thought back to her morning walk to work. He'd been a solid and warm assurance, soothing her doubts and livening her tired, dulled mind.

Ducking her head and placing her fingers to her lips, Iris pressed down a smile as she thought of Barry's lips almost ghosting hers. He'd caught the corner of her mouth, by accident she knew, and the thought of it made her tingle with a new, foreign excitement.

It wasn't a kiss. Not exactly. Yet it made her flush in happiness and her heart was dancing in her chest, pounding out a rhythm that she found she didn't mind one bit. Before she had met Barry, the only thing to make her heart race was fear, but now he was giving her new reasons to feel dizzy and warm, flushed with happiness instead of shame.

Making her tea and leaving it to steep on the counter, Iris plugged in her phone to charge as she selected a pair of warm, comfortable sleep pants and large sweater to wear. Brushing her hair and tying it out of her face, Iris began the usual routine of preparing to settle down for the night. She knew she still needed to eat, but she wanted to just lie down and enjoy her tea with a good book.

The temptation of a shower was very pressing, but she's already had one that morning and knew that she needed to resist.

Pulling her sleeves up to her elbows and grabbing the thick throw that she'd stashed in her closet, Iris paused as she looked at the scarred, damaged mark along her forearm. Even Jessica had reacted when she'd seen it, not even needing to ask what caused just a scar as she taken a count of the marks covering Iris's arms. She'd only seen seven of the twenty-three—almost twenty four—and she'd still reacted like someone had committed the worst sin before her eyes.

Placing the throw on her bed and gently caressing the scar, Iris pondered the words.  _He's told us about you, little one, he really likes you._ It seemed that her soulmates favoured pet-names and nicknames to call her: Sweetheart, sweetie, doll, dear, little one. The simple endearments made her smile; it surprised her that she rather liked them. They made her feel welcomed and wanted.

Collecting her tea and the book she was presently reading, Iris curled herself against her pillows and wrapped the throw tight around her body—making sure to cover her chilled feet.

It was simple and mundane; something she'd done before she'd met Barry—before she'd even considered looking into people who might know why she has so many marks. When times were, at least what she might have considered, simpler. However, the more she spent time with her soulmates, the more of them that she met, the happier she was to have gone to Karen Fletcher's office that day.

Slipping into the comfort of her novel, Iris let herself forget about the day as her headache steadily subsided, the smell of peppermint and green tea encasing her tenses as her mind becomes lost in a fictitious world.

Across town, Barry sighed in relief as he stood in front of his work locker, looking down at his phone. He wasn't allowed to have it on him during meetings, so he'd nearly run back to the locker room to check for Iris's email about getting home safely. Thankfully, she'd sent him an email as soon as she had returned home, thanking him for that morning while assuring him that she was home and safe. He answered her email quickly, even though she warned that she may not answer due to being asleep, and tucked his phone into his pocket.

He still had an hour left before he got to leave, but it was be a much easier hour now that he knew his soulmate was safe and her father had tried anything.

"Hey, Barry!"

Turning to one of the handlers, Barry nodded in greeting with a smile as he closed his locker and clipped the small lock in place again. "Hey, Alice, what can I help you with?"

"We're pretty sure some kids cut some of the locks near the back gate, probably to try and sneak in later tonight. Tom found them when he was doing his rounds before heading home. You got time to replace them?"

Barry let out a soft sigh. He hated when people did that. The animals weren't these adorable things that they could just walk up to whenever they wanted; that's the reason for all of the thousands of yards of fencing that surrounding the park and each enclosure, doubled. "Yea, no problem. You heading home?"

"Yup, I'm free for the night!" she cheered, passing him to get to her own locker. "Hey, you doing anything later?" she asked suddenly, the words rushed as she spun on her heel to face him again, looking embarrassed.

Barry jerked to a halt and turned to face her again.

_What?_

He'd worked with Alice for years, and she'd never really given him the time of day. Not that he'd been looking; he and the others decided a long time ago that they were going to wait for their soulmate, and not waste time with someone who wasn't meant for them. And now, after he'd met her, Alice decided to try and ask him out?

"Uh...yea, I was gunna go and visit my soulmate," he answered slowly, deciding at the last second that calling Iris his girlfriend wasn't true, and calling her his soulmate was much more honest and meaningful anyway. He knew that he probably wouldn't see Iris that night, but it would give Alice a clear idea of his relationship.

Alice's expression went slack in surprise before she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

Barry smiled in assurance and waved away her concerns. "That's okay, I don't exactly broadcast it." Alice flushed in embarrassment as she nodded her head. "Have a good night, Alice."

"Yea, you too, Barry," she called after him, before silently cursing herself as she banged her head against her locker once he was out of sight. Barry flinched once he had turned the corner, feeling bad when he knew she'd be embarrassed about asking him out now. However, he couldn't bring himself to regret what he had said to her. He could never pass Iris up for another—his soulmate would come before anyone else, not matter how kind they might be.


	15. My Reason to Be

Several days have passed since her father had left that note on her door and the message on her phone, yet she had not seen or heard from him since. It put her on edge, leaving her jittery and tense even as she tried to ease her concerns and to think positively about the situation. She should be relieved that he hadn't shown up, she knew that, but it made her wonder why he was waiting. Her father wasn't a patient man—at least not from what she remembered. When she'd disobeyed an order from him, the backlash was nearly instantaneous.

Now, buried beneath the heavy blankets atop her bed, Iris was not sleeping fitfully. Her knees were drawn up to her chest protectively, her muscles twitching and convulsing in her sleep as her eyes shifted beneath closed lids. Her lips did not form words, but faint whines and gasps of distress disrupted the silence of her small studio apartment. The faint buzz of her small heater was barely enough to cover the noises, quiet as they were, and left her to continue dreaming.

The nightmarish appearance of her parents, shouting incoherently as they towered over her like demonic giants, caused her to crawl backward into the darkest corner she could find. Her arm was hot with blood, the skin cut clean where her soulmark had once been. Her flesh was cut open, clean to the bone, and poured hot red blood as Iris desperately tried to pull the wound close, to seal her skin once more.

Her mark. They had ruined it.

Sobbing with her efforts, she wasn't aware enough before the knife was gliding across her skin again, this time at her right thigh, destroying another mark as her skin parted like silk beneath the knife. Throwing her head back with a shriek of pain, she no longer had anywhere left to move as the corner she had chosen for refuge closed in on her.

Sharp, strong knocking started at her door, waking her with a strangled gasp as Iris jerked into a half-sitting position. Her kitchen light was still on, giving her usually dark apartment enough light that she had been able to fall asleep in the first place. Her skin was hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat, leaving her hair to stick to her forehead and neck as she desperately clawed at her duvet as though scrambling for something to defend herself.

When the knocking at her door sounded again, Iris was able to bring herself into consciousness enough to realize that she was not huddled in a corner. Nor was she coated in a layer of her own blood, hot and sticky as it had poured from her split skin like a never-ending flood. She was in her dim apartment, sitting in sweat-soaked clothes as someone knocked at her door with sturdy knuckles.

Realizing through a fear and sleep addled mind that she had been having a terribly vivid nightmare, Iris jolted at the thought that she may have woken one of her neighbours. Choking back a sound of distress, the woman rolled from her bed and moved to her door as the knocking ceased for a moment. She didn't even think to look through the peep-hole as she slid the locks aside and pulled open the door with a stuttered apology on the tip of her tongue.

However, the words died away when she glanced up to meet familiar blue eyes, rimmed red and filled with fear as they looked down at her. Who stood before her, she did not know, but the sight of Kevin Cumb's body and whichever identity was presently in control caused a broken sob to wrack her chest as her tense shoulders dropped in relief and despair.

The fear in those blue eyes abated, but it was replaced with utmost concern as she was pulled into a tight embrace and silently ushered back into her apartment, letting her door close them inside and away from the prying eyes and ears of her woken neighbours. Her soulmate, wearing a thrown together outfit of black sleep pants, a pair of shoes and a soft maroon shirt that she knew was much too thin for the weather outside, had never looked more welcoming as she melted into their embrace.

"Sh, sh, shh, quiet now," a soft British accent cooed to her gently, guiding them to sit on the edge of her bed as one hand stroked through her nightmare-knotted hair. Iris could do barely more than hiccup harshly, eyes opening in surprise as the familiar, comforting words were finally whispered to her. "It's alright, little one, I'm here."

The tone, the words, the softness in which those words were spoken; this was a woman. A new soulmate had rushed over to her because she had been having a nightmare; the very soulmate whose mark had provided her with so much strength and courage; so much comfort when she was in her darkest times. She continued to shush Iris gently, pulling her in close as she rocked her from side to side as she carefully ran her fingers through her hair. With her cheek resting on her soulmate's shoulder, nose directed in toward her neck, Iris took in a shuddering breath as she fought to stop her sobs.

The smell was feminine and calming, like gentle perfume and home cooking.

Continuing to breathe in this new smell, Iris's sobs gradually eased as the knots were slowly pulled from her hair, the gentle voice in her ear never quieting with soothing words and calming hushes. "That's it, dear, deep breaths." She moved to pull back from Iris, lips parted to speak again, but the smaller of the two panicked as she felt her soulmate leaving her.

"Don't go," Iris gasped out desperately, sounding broken even to her own ears, "please, don't go!" Her hand snagged the shirt her soulmate wore, clinging to it desperately as she burrowed her face into a familiar neck, inhaling the new and comforting smell that rose from her skin.

Her soulmate sighed softly, sounding sad, as the arm around her shoulders tightened and the hand carding through her hair stopped to cradle the back of her skull and hold her close. "No need to worry, little one, I won't be going anywhere." She still trembled with the power of her ragged breaths, but Iris gradually relaxed into her soulmates comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry," Iris rasped out through raw vocal cords. She'd kept them awake again, and this time she'd been asleep when it had been happening. Her nightmare had been so real, so terrifying for her unconscious mind, that her soulmates felt it. "I never give you any peace."

"Oh, dear, don't think like that," she soothed, gently tipping Iris's head up so she could look into the soft, whiskey eyes that she had heard so much about from the others. They truly were a beautiful colour, but it was heartbreaking to see how glassy they were with tears, rimmed red and surrounded by bruised skin from lack of sleep. "When Kevin was young, we swore that we would protect him so that he, just like you, would not have to wake from fear in the middle of the night. Iris, you have our protection, as well."

Wrapping both arms around the thin woman, she tucked Iris's head beneath her chin and sighed softly when she felt that Iris was barely shaking now that her sobs have subsided.

"You, little one, have twenty-three people ready to do anything for you. You need only ask."

Taking a deep breath, Iris nodded her head against her soulmate's shoulder before she finally returned the embrace properly. It was mildly strange, hearing the soft tones of a woman as she hugged a distinctly male body, hardened with muscle and strength. However, nothing would stop Iris from opening her heart to her soulmates, no matter the gender.

Turning her face inward to once more rest against a pale, soft neck, Iris finally stopped trembling. "Thank you," she whispered, linking her hands behind the back of the woman holding her. The phantom fear from her nightmare still lingered in the back of her mind, but having someone that she knew she could trust helped to ground her, anchor her to the present. To reality.

She was safe, she wasn't alone, and her parents couldn't hurt her here.

"Patricia," the woman said suddenly. Iris drew away enough that her arms were still embracing a strong torso, but she was no longer hidden beneath her soulmate's chin. Looking up into calm blue eyes, a sweet smile was on her lips as she looked down into Iris's calmed ones. "My name is Patricia." So, this was the one who scolded Luke's eating habits. It was comforting to have finally met the personality behind the name, and Iris was so very happy that she had been determined enough so come here when she felt Iris's fear.

A smile brightened Iris's expression, making her look a tragic beauty with tears still staining her cheeks and caught in her dark eyelashes. "It's nice to meet you, Patricia," she answered softly, looking truly happy. "I…I've gotten so much comfort and strength from your mark over the years." Drawing her left arm from around Patricia, against her own chest instead, Iris showed the black writing on the back of her palm.

Patricia blinked in surprise. She had heard the others talking about their interactions with Iris, and how she often would trace the mark on the back of her hand in absentminded thought. However, she couldn't have imagined that it would be her words. Her words had given her soulmate so much just from being there; from being a constant and visible presence in her life. The surprise finally faded as she smiled once more, taking Iris's hand in hers and lifting it to press a kiss against the mark.

"I am honored, little one."

Iris flushed at the gentle action before she blinked in surprise as Patricia released her hand to instead move aside the collar of the maroon shirt that she was wearing, bearing the black mark that was Iris's begged words, don't leave, please, don't leave! Reaching up to gently trace over the mark, a sad smile touched her lips as she realized what they must have thought when they had first read it on their skin. It sounded like something Barry would have shouted to her as she was running away that first time.

Had they assumed they would try and leave her for some reason? Was that why they were all assuring her so adamantly that they had no intention of going anywhere?

Copying Patricia's action, Iris leaned forward and ghosted a gentle kiss against her words, dark against pale skin. Her soulmate sighed softly at the soft caress of Iris's lips as the feeling of being whole and accepted warmed her from the inside. So this was the soul bond?

Shifting back and angling herself to face Iris, Patricia reached up to gently trace a finger beneath one of Iris's tired eyes, feeling the softness of the skin that accompanied the bruise-like appearance. "How are you feeling now, dear?"

Looking away as she inhaled deeply, Iris knew the immediate answer would be that she felt much better now that she was no longer alone. However, the more in depth answer to Patricia's question was that she felt drained and afraid, still left in a state of unknowing when it came to her parents. She really had no clue why they had showed up and ordered her like they had years before, then vanished again with no further contact.

"I'm scared," she finally answered quietly. Her crying had left her mouth dry and her throat raw, leaving her to sound as though she truly had been caught in fits of screaming as she slept. "Were you told about my parents?"

Patricia's expression darkened slightly—the popular reaction when her parents were brought up to any of her soulmates, it would seem—and she nodded slightly. "Barry didn't go into detail, he felt it was up to you when your secrets were to be told, but we all are aware that you had been…abused, and Dr. Fletcher assumed it was you parents."

"Yes to both," Iris admitted quietly. "They're back…my parents. My father left me a note and a voicemail message, telling me to hide my marks. But…I decided to do the opposite." Patricia watched as, even now, Iris began to stroke her finger over the mark on her hand while she was speaking. "And he hasn't done anything, which scares me almost as much as if he had. He was never a patient man in the past, so I don't know why he showed up once and then just disappeared."

"Waiting is one of the hardest things," Patricia offered in response as she nodded along. She didn't know what else they could do to help Iris—the next move was up to her parents—and that left Patricia feeling just as helpless as she was sure that Iris did. But they weren't after her or the other alters, they were after Iris and that fact alone had everyone on edge. "Do you think you can sleep anymore?"

Iris shook her head without even having to think about it. Closing her eyes just brought back the images of trying to pull together her sliced skin, blood pouring out in unrealistic quantities. She swore she could still feel the sensation of her fingers sliding over the edges of the cut, trying desperately to pull it closed but the blood leaving her skin too slick to pull.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmare?" Patricia proposed instead, leaning into Iris's line of sight when she saw the troubled look was returning to her soulmate's gaze. "Hedwig always feels better after he tells me about bad dreams."

Hedwig. Another familiar name that went with a soulmate she was yet to meet. Her suspicions that Hedwig was a child continued to grow.

Scooting back along her bed, toward the pillows that were pushed and strewn in disarray from her restless movements, Iris pulled Patricia up with her so that both women were sitting back against the headboard, their hands intertwined between them. "It wasn't just a dream, not really. It was my parents, and they were cutting my marks."

Patricia tensed at her confession, tightening her grip on Iris's small, delicate hands as her words register. "What do you mean it wasn't just a dream, dear?" Even her words sounded forced.

Iris locked up for a moment, tensing her lips into a thin line. Patricia didn't know? Letting out a shuddering breath, she disentangled one of her hands and rotated her arm to bring her attention to the words on the outside of her forearm. The distraught sound that issued from Patricia's chest drew Iris's gaze up in surprise; tears welled in her blue eyes, a pinched, pained expression marring her features. She took Iris's arm in a gentle hold, running her fingertips along the scar that had been sewn together so dutifully.

Her parents had probably hated the doctor that helped her when he had preserved the words.

"Oh, little one," Patricia breathed out in despair. "Please, tell me this is the only one?"

Iris bowed her head, wishing that she could give Patricia that assurance. "No, it's not," she whispered sadly. "It's what I was dreaming about, before you woke up when you knocked. They were cutting my marks again, like when I was younger."

Patricia could only shake her head as she continued to stare at the scar as though wishing it would disappear. "How could anyone do this to a child?"

"I have asked myself that many times."

Pulling her small, fragile soulmate in close, Patricia hardened her resolve as her arms wrapped tightly around Iris's frame. "They will never touch you again," she swore, her soft tone strong and sure as she let Iris lean into her in comfort. "They will never even come close."

Neither of them moved, curled together amongst Iris's sheets and duvet. Patricia began telling her stories; tales of the things that the many identities in Kevin Crumb's body got into over the years, all to distract the younger woman from her dreams, from her life. Very soon, Iris was laughing softly as she listened to Patricia's take on the story she already knew about BT nearly breaking his nose. She told her about the ongoing things that happened in their home, and how often Hedwig was the troublemaker in a group of adults that were not amused by his pranks.

Patricia already knew that Iris did not have work that day, courtesy of Barry, and therefore felt no guilt as she watched Iris steadily fall back asleep as the barest hint of sunlight began to creep in though her windows. She continued to talk, however, in soft, lilting tones that worked to lull Iris deeper into her sleep—hopefully without nightmares.

Only once Iris had gone completely slack against her, leaning their sides together as her head rested on Patricia's shoulder, did the other woman stop regaling her sleeping soulmate with stories. Looking down at her, it broke Patricia's heart to know the extent of her soulmate's pain—and she had a disturbing feeling that it wasn't the full extent, not yet.

Closing her eyes and relaxing beneath Iris's weight, she let herself slip from the light as she soon opened her eyes to where Barry was sitting. Arms crossed with a troubled look, he didn't appear the usual Barry as he frowned deeply at the floor. Looking up only when Patricia came to sit next to him in an empty seat, he knew as soon as he met her gaze that she had been told about Iris's past—at least a fraction of it.

"We need to get her out of there," she began. "Alone and scared; it's no way to leave her."

"I know," Barry admitted tiredly, straightening from his slouch and scrubbing at his face with weary hands. "But what can we do? We don't have much room here; we barely have enough room for all of us."

"We only have on body, Barry," Patricia answered honestly. "She doesn't need much room—you've seen her home—but she does need our protection. Even without her parents here, they are haunting her. What good would we be if they actually tried to hurt her? We're across town."

"Would she do it?" Barry asked in response, sounding as tired as he looked.

"I think she will," BT answered as he stepped up to them, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he looked down at them with a pained expression. "She's never been wanted before. She's only ever been pushed away by people who were supposed to want her—to love her. Maybe…maybe this will prove to her that we are all in. We won't leave her."

Barry looked up to the younger man before he smiled faintly and let out a small huff as his shoulders relaxed. "Do you really think she'll just move in with us?"

"Not right away," Patricia answered. "But we can make a space for her at home, so that she's not alone all the time. I'm not proposing we take her from her home and make her give up her apartment, but I want to offer her a sanctuary. Somewhere her parents won't find her when she wants to sleep in peace."

"The note on her door tells us that her dad can get into her building," BT continued. "I'm with Patricia on this one."

Barry quirked an eyebrow, not having expected BT to so readily agree with the older woman, but he also knew that BT posed a very valid point. Iris was broken from the rejection and abuse of her parents, and offering her a place amongst them—the greatest show of faith for a group that had been ridiculed before—may just be the necessary step toward piecing her back together.

BT suddenly grinned. "I think you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone that wouldn't want her around."

"Amen," Luke called from his chair, throwing a fist in the air. Even Dennis came to stand just behind Patricia, placing a hand on her shoulder as he met Barry's gaze and nodded. The most they could do was offer the chance to her; after that, it was in her hands.

"She's ours," Dennis added. "If she'll take us. And we protect our own."

Leaning his elbows on his thighs, Barry looked over the many faces that made up their circle of identities. Some slept, others were nodding their agreement to the conversation that had woken them, and the remaining ones wore sad, pained expressions as they remembered the pain of Iris's nightmarish memories. Across the space, Kevin was sleeping fitfully in his chair with Hedwig snoring next to him. "If she'll take us," he agreed quietly.

Patricia smiled.


	16. For I Am Wanted

Iris was warm and comfortable, tucked beneath her duvet with her spare pillow clutched close to her chest. She felt secure and warm, wrapped in protection. With her mind still sluggish from sleep, she didn't think about the nightmares that had been tormenting her, or the appearance of a new soulmate that had comforted her the night before. Sleep clouded her mind, leaving her blissfully peaceful in the cusp-of-waking moments. Sighing into her pillow as she turned her face into the soft fabric, the petite woman relaxed in the calm morning silence of her apartment.

A soft smell drifted from her pillowcase, however, and caused her eyes to flutter in concentration as she inhaled delicately. Faint perfume and a homey kitchen smell. Her breath hitched as the recognition of the scent came to mind, bringing the memories of the night before back to the forefront of her mind.

Patricia! She'd come to her when she felt the distress that had been induced by Iris's nightmare the night before. Remembering their long embraces as she calmed her, helped her to breathe and relax after the breakdown that had left her gasping and hiccupping, left the woman's cheeks flushed with heat. She'd clung to her soulmate like a terrified child, even went so far as to beg her to stay, and those words were forever marked across her skin. Patricia had taken it all in stride, which she was grateful for, but embarrassment at her own desperate actions left Iris half afraid to look around herself.

Where was Patricia?

They'd been sitting against her headboard after she had exposed her scarred mark, Patricia's soft words working better than a lullaby as Iris had steadily drifted back to sleep, the images of her soulmates overtaking any thoughts of her parents and therefore chasing away possible nightmares. She'd dreamt of BT, and Barry and Luke, the alters that she had met and could conjure in her sleeping mind. Patricia's voice was a soft constant in the back of her mind, as though she was narrating the story of Iris's dreams.

Only when Iris finally wondered where Patricia was—was she even still in the apartment?—did she feel a tightening weight around her waist that abruptly drew her back a few inches. Her body slid across her sheets with little effort; a combination of her light weight and the strength behind who was pulling her. No fear accompanied her abrupt move—somehow she already knew who would be there when she turned to look.

Well, not  _exactly_  who.

She knew that it would be the body of her soulmates, but which soulmate was a toss-up at this point.

Craning her neck slowly, Iris came face to face with the slumbering face of Kevin's body. His arms were tight around her waist as he spooned her from behind, his face only a couple of inches away from where the back of her neck had been a moment ago.

Moving as slowly and carefully as she could, Iris rolled over beneath the hold of one strong arm so she could face her soulmate properly. The arm not over her waist was pulled in close to his chest, almost as though Patricia had fallen asleep while afraid to touch Iris too much, and the dark haired woman smiled softly at the sight.

Barry had spent the night with her once before, sleeping even closer to her than Kevin's body was now, yet this time felt so different. She knew more of the identities behind the ever changing expressions, behind the words that covered her body. Somehow, this time, it felt so much more personal. Perhaps it was the connection between them, strengthened four-fold now, or it could be the trust and comfort that she had felt when Patricia had held her the night before.

It was new and refreshing; a welcome change.

Reaching out to gently take Kevin's larger hand in one of her delicate ones, Iris shifted a couple of inches closer as she relaxed toward the heat that seemed to emanate from his body. Letting her eyes close, she missed the shift in expression on her soulmate's face; the brows pinched down for the shortest moment, a slowly waking mind concentrating on what it was feeling.

As Iris continued to breathe and relax, unable to do more than slowly slip into a light doze once more, blue eyes opened to gaze at the peaceful expression she wore. Her hand was still loosely holding theirs, the small digits warmed from sleep, and he could feel the gentle breaths that whispered against his knuckles from the way her head was angled while she breathed.

Her hair was messed from sleep, and there were indents in her cheeks from the creases in her pillowcase, but the shadows beneath her eyes had faded throughout the many hours that Patricia had left her to sleep. She was beautiful as she lay before him; the delicate slope of her neck teased him and coaxed him to touch, while her gently parted lips were almost too close to bear. She remained mostly covered by the duvet, but the arm that had been draped over her when he woke gave him the impression of a thin waist with a smooth curve toward her hips.

He needed to return the light to Patricia, he knew, yet he was reluctant to leave when he had only just been given the chance to see her. Listening to the others speak of their soulmate, it made his heart ache to know that she was still out of his reach. But here she was; leaning into him, holding his hand as she allowed his arm to remain draped over her small form.

Lifting his free hand, he couldn't resist the temptation to gently stoke the backs of his fingers along her jawbone, up over the softness of her cheek and into the silky tresses of sleep-mussed hair. She was soft and warm. Cradling the back of her head, he drew closer to her until she was nestled beneath his chin. The minimal movement served to keep her asleep and even prompted her to lean in closer when his warmth registered as being closer to her sleeping mind.

He didn't want to give her up, to share her with the others. They would try and keep her from him, thinking that she would be better off, be safer.

 _He_  was the one who would keep her safe. In the end, it was  _Dennis_  who protected Kevin, who protected the other identities. Iris was  _his_  to protect as well, and he would never let her go.

 _Sleep now, Dennis_ , Patricia whispered gently in his mind.  _Everyone is safe._

Most of the identities in Kevin's body had lost many hours of sleep over the past few days; ever since Iris's father had returned and left her awake in fear for an entire night. Dennis slept the least out of everyone. He couldn't relax when he knew that there was something he could do, yet Barry wouldn't let any of them get the light long enough to go to her. He didn't want to pressure Iris, he didn't want her to find them suffocating after she had literally fled from him when he had first said his words to her.

Dennis disagreed, of course. She was terrified, yes, but there was never going to be a change if they didn't show her that there was no reason to fear them.

Patricia had finally had enough and convinced Hedwig to steal the light from Barry after he had begun to doze off from exhaustion, the nagging discomfort in their chest barely enough to make sleep difficult. When told that he was helping to save their soulmate, Hedwig had happily jumped at the chance and gave the light over to Patricia. She hadn't even waited long enough to change from Barry's sleep clothes, pulling on a pair of his shoes and rushing from their home.

" _Did she save her, Mr. Dennis_?" Hedwig had lisped out once Patricia arrived at Iris's, calming the over-tired and distraught woman.

" _Yes_ ," Dennis assured. " _Good job, Hedwig_."

The child beamed at the praise and climbed back into his own chair, grinning away as he repeated Dennis's praise in his mind over and over. It wasn't often that Dennis said kind words to him; usually Patricia would be the nice one—so long as he didn't do something to upset her—so he was absolutely ecstatic with Dennis's simple words.

_Shh, sleep, Dennis._

Closing his eyes and pulling Iris just a bit closer, Dennis finally succumbed to his exhaustion.

It was well into the noon hours when Iris woke again, ducking her head toward her chest as she tried to cover a large yawn that left a tweak in her jaw. She could see light through her eyelids, telling her that the sunlight was steaming in through her windows. It had already been bright out when she'd fallen back asleep, so how late was it now?

"I was wondering when you would wake up."

Opening her eyes and lifting her head, Iris turned her attention to the figure sitting on the edge of the bed, blocking the sunlight from where she was lying. "Patricia," she greeted with a faint smile. "You stayed."

"Of course," she answered quietly, as though she was trying not to wake Iris entirely. "You asked me to stay," she pointed out a moment later. It was true, even though Iris had begged her more than asked her. The words were forever marked on Patricia's skin, proof of how desperately Iris had wanted someone to be there for her.

Sitting up and pushing her hair from her face, Iris repressed the urge to yawn again as she stretched her back out with her arms over her head. Patricia smiled softly at the sight; she looked like a cat waking from a nap. Iris wasn't aware of the appraising stare as she lowered her arms down with a sigh again, rolling her neck in the process. She hadn't slept that long or that deeply in a long time, so now her body was uncomfortably stiff.

Patricia rose from the bed as Iris looked back to her, the sunlight catching her eyes and brightening the amber beautifully, while also prompting Iris to blink. "Thank you for staying, Patricia. I can't remember the last time I slept so well."

The older woman gave a sweet, secretive smile. She had been able to put Iris to sleep the first time, but it was Dennis that had drawn her in close and helped to subconsciously keep the woman calm and slumbering without nightmares. After confirming that Iris was safe in her hands, the other alters had gone to sleep and left Patricia and Dennis. When he had requested that she let him take the light, assuring her that he only wished to see that Iris was truly safe, Patricia had easily allowed him control of their body.

He had barely been on the cusp of consciousness when Iris had turned over and taken his hand. So small and delicate, she felt like warm snow—soft and fragile, easily marked and hurt.

Patricia knew that Dennis would do anything for their soulmate. Already, after only one meeting, he was enamored with the tiny woman. For Iris, he would do  _anything._

"Are you feeling better, dear?" she asked instead, leaning down to brush Iris's hair aside so that she could get a proper look at her face. The shadows beneath her eyes had faded some, and the redness from her crying the night before had eased as well. "You look better."

"My skin feels dry from crying, but other than that I'm okay," Iris admitted. She was relieved that she didn't have a headache—in the past, crying before she went to sleep almost always guaranteed a migraine upon waking the next day. She wasn't sure if it was Patricia having calmed her before she went to sleep or the longer hours that she had been able to sleep in peace, but Iris was thankful none the less.

Nodding, pleased, Patricia straightened again and looked over to Iris's modest kitchen. "You don't have very much to eat here, but would you like any coffee or tea?"

Finally realizing that Patricia was in her apartment, technically a guest in her home, Iris sprung from her sheets with a stuttered apology. "I'm sorry, I should have offered you something! I'll-"

Iris couldn't even passed Patricia to get to the kitchen before her shoulders were grabbed and she was stopped in her tracks. "Calm down, dear. I'm here to help  _you_ , I don't need you to wait on me." Smiling as she stroked over Iris's hair, still soft even after sleeping, she faintly shook her head. "No need to worry about me. I just wanted you to sleep for as long as you needed."

Relaxing under Patricia's warm hands, Iris nodded slowly. "Thank you for letting me sleep."

Tucking a strand of hair behind her small soulmates ear, Patricia straightened up again and turned to the kitchen. "So, coffee or tea?"

Iris couldn't say that she really knew Patricia, even with how much the other woman had spoken last night, but she had heard enough from BT and Luke that she was aware this was not a battle she would win. "Tea, please," she finally answered and took a seat on the edge of her bed, allowing her to face where Patricia was walking around her kitchen to collect what she would need for tea.

She seemed to know where everything was, so Iris assumed that she had been awake long enough to familiarize herself with the kitchen. For some reason, the thought of Patricia making herself at home didn't bother Iris; usually she was very particular about who could go through her things, but her soulmates didn't seem to draw forth the same protective, private instincts.

"Do you have a favourite?" Patricia asked as she motioned to Iris's collection—the same one that Barry had gawked at when he'd seen it.

"Dried apple and cinnamon," she answered immediately. It was usually one that she reserved for especially cold days during the winter or fall, but it was also a flavor that brought her great comfort. And comfort was definitely something she needed.

Patricia hummed curiously as she selected the labelled tin and spooned some into Iris's tea press, the kettle already full and heating on the stove. Iris knew that it had been empty when she went to sleep, and Patricia had not filled it as she watched. The older woman caught where Iris was looking, eyes settled on the simple kettle, and smiled.

She was a perceptive little thing.

"I was going to make you a tea earlier," Patricia started as she re-sealed the tea-tin and placed it back on the shelf. "However, I realized that I did not know which you liked most, and I was unsure when you would wake up." Iris nodded in understanding, folding her hands in her lap. That's how Patricia knew where everything was. "I didn't want you to wake up to a cold tea."

"Maybe if it was a warmer day," Iris countered. "Cold tea is sometimes very refreshing."

Patricia pointed at Iris, as though she strongly agreed. "Let's see if you can convince the others of that, hm? Some of them are much too addicted to carbonated drinks; I can only imagine the horrors they are doing to their teeth."

Iris couldn't fight the broad grin that came to her lips. This was the Patricia that Luke had been speaking about. This exact moment, when she was motherly and concerned, wanting to consider the health of the alters—especially when it came to what they were putting in their body. "I'll see what I can do," she promised with laughter in her tone. "But I'm not a miracle worker."

"Oh, don't sell yourself so short, dear," Patricia protested. "I think they will give anything for you. Just you wait and see."

Flushing under the other woman's insinuation, Iris politely excused herself and rushed to the bathroom at a controlled pace. Leaning against the counter once she was by herself, she repressed the urge to either break down in a fit of giggles or start sobbing again—however, this time it would not be in fear. Instead, she took a couple of breaths before she wiped at her face with cold water to wash away the remnants of sleep.

She ran a brush through her hair, though the knots thankfully hadn't built up again, and brushed her teeth quickly. Not wanting to leave her soulmate waiting, Iris finished up in the bathroom quickly and stepped back out. Patricia was pouring the boiling water into Iris's tea-press, her back to her as she worked, and Iris just took a moment to look at her.

Even though she was wearing men's clothing, Patricia stood in a way that differentiated her from the male personalities that Iris had met up until then. They were more rigid, even Barry when he was relaxed, and had a more erect posture. Patricia was soft, even though she carried the same muscle that the men did, and it came through in the way that she stood. She was also more slow and precise in her movements, matching her soft way of speaking.

"Is something the matter, dear?" Patricia asked suddenly, turning to look at Iris over her shoulder.

"No," Iris assured immediately, a soft smile gracing her features before she'd even thought to proceed with the action. "Kinda perfect, actually."

Patricia smiled in response, warmed at the younger woman's kind, accepting words. Blood rushed to Iris's cheeks and she looked away bashfully, suddenly wondering what had come over her to actually confess such a thing to Patricia. "What do you like in your tea?" Patricia asked instead, letting the sudden comment slide.

Blinking away her sudden sheepishness, Iris pushed away from the bathroom doorway. "Just black for me." Nodding in approval, Patricia collected the tea and brought it over to Iris. As she did so, the smaller woman noticed another mug sitting on the counter with steam wafting from the surface. "Thank you. Did you make one for yourself?"

"Yes, just green for me. You have very nice leaves, I'm sure it will taste perfect," Patricia answered honestly, retrieving her tea once Iris was cradling her warm, cinnamon scented tea in her hands. Returning to sit on the edge of the bed next to Iris, Patricia's expression grew more serious as she looked from the pristine white mug in her hands, filled with soft green-tinted water, to meet Iris's amber-whiskey eyes.

She noticed Patricia's change in expression immediately. "Is something wrong?"

"I have something to ask you, dear, if that's alright?" she began cryptically, worrying Iris from her moment of calm and peace.

"What…what is it?"

"It's not bad," Patricia added quickly, realizing the error of how she had started. "It's just…we were wondering, if we were to make up a room for you at home, would you be willing to take it as a sanctuary from this?"

Iris was left staring in silent shock, eyes wide as they looked into the soft blue of Patricia's. A place in their home? A sanctuary? The offer was far more appealing than she would have expected, but after the night that she had endured—the nights that her soulmates endured through her—it was like the offering of water in the desert. She did not know where they lived, therefore that meant her parents were just as ignorant.

Her father wouldn't be able to leave notes taped to  _their_  door.

He could leave messages on her phone until he was blue in the face, but he wouldn't be able to find her.

And her soulmates would be right there. Patricia had run across town just to get to her, because she had been having a  _bad dream_. If nightmares were to occur in the future, they would be so close. Even just the thought of having her soulmates close warmed her from the heart. Each time she spoke with them, saw them, thought of them—there was something within her that stirred with happiness. There was nothing in the world more precious to her than her soulmates. Not anymore.

Patricia could see as she was thinking, watching as the emotions played across her face with each new thought. "Dear?" Iris's face softened with a smile, her eyes becoming glossy with the urge to cry. "Oh, dear, what-"

"No, happy tears," Iris interrupted, waving off the woman's concern as her smile continued to grow. "You would all really take me? You…you want me-" She couldn't find the proper words to speak what she was feeling. It was like the emotion was on the tip of her tongue, but she just didn't find the words to form it.

Understanding dawned in Patricia's eyes before she leaned forward to wrap on arm around Iris, careful not to spill her tea in the process. "We will always want you, Iris. And at the moment, what we want most is to know that you are  _safe_. With us." Shifting her hold, Patricia used her free hand to wipe at the tears just barely tipping over the cusp of Iris's lashes

Iris whimpered softly at the gentle contact. "Thank you."


	17. The Absence of Fear

Patricia had taken Iris out for groceries after the night she had spent sleeping beside her, stating that she did not care how small Iris was, she needed to eat more in order to be healthy. So, with a fully stocked kitchen and fridge, Iris had parted ways with Patricia after delaying the older woman with a long hug in the doorway of her apartment. Patricia didn't seem to mind, and had just stroked Iris's hair as she assured her that they would see one another soon.

Iris knew that she couldn't be selfish—she couldn't hold onto her soulmates all hours of the day because they had lives, too. She truly wished that she could; she wished that she never had to let them go.

However, she now had the thought that she could be with them much more; she had, after all, agreed to Patricia's invitation about having a room made up for her. For her to think about such a drastic change in her life left her feeling old ghosts of panic, but it passed easily as she reminded herself of the comfort and security that came with having her soulmates nearby.

They had talked about it in more depth and Patricia made sure that she was fully aware they were not asking her to leave her apartment. They had no desire to rush her from her home, and only desired to offer her a safe place to sleep on nights when she felt her home wasn't as safe as it used to be. She wasn't sure when any of that may actually take place, since Patricia confessed that they had decided on it while she was sleeping, but knowing that it was a possibility in the near future was all she needed.

Standing in her kitchen as she finished the dinner she had picked out with Patricia, her plate scraped clean of any food, Iris looked at her laptop she had placed on the counter in order to read. She rarely used her laptop, not really liking the headaches that came from reading on the screen too much, but this seemed like a good time to bring it out.

On the first tab, information about apartments coming up for rent in her price-range, some saved or bookmarked to come back to at a later date, and the other tab held an article that Fletcher had released on Dissociative Identity Disorder. She knew that the soulmates she had met wouldn't mind answering what questions she may have, but there were some things that she wanted to know going into a living situation.

Putting her dishes in the sink, filled a few inches with hot, soapy water, Iris picked up her laptop and half-filled mug of tea to take back to her bed and sit down. Crossing her legs and placing the computer in front of her, mug of tea in close reach on the nightstand, Iris returned her focus to the article.

This particular one was written only on the person with D.I.D., lacking anything to do with soulmates, and that was just what Iris was looking for. There wasn't much information on soulmates of those with D.I.D. to begin with, so she didn't concern herself too much with it and instead focused on studying the condition itself. She had tried to read other articles she had found, but they never seemed to portray the 'subjects' as people. Fletcher spoke of them as humans, and revealed that each identity was in fact their own person.

It wasn't just someone hearing voices or showing signs of extreme bi-polar disorder; they were truly their own person, unique and different even if they all lived in one body.

Iris fully believed it, and not only because of the evidence provided by her soulmarks. It reminded her of the way each of her soulmates carried a different smell. Patricia had been wearing Barry's clothes when she came to her, yet she smelled nothing like Barry except for the ghost of cologne that still clung to that material.

One of the things that irritated her with the other readings was also how they brought up treatments, explaining that the alters could be 'cured'. They didn't believe that alters were as real as the original identity and were all a part of a mental psychosis. That fact alone had her immediately abandoning those types of articles, always finding her way back to Fletcher's work instead.

It was disappointing to know that there were so few people who supported Fletcher and her side of the research; from what Iris was reading, she had incredible evidence on her side. Yet she was forgotten in favour of others were went on about how these people could be 'cured' because they were sick. Knowing that Kevin had been through something terrible when he was younger, the exact reason that the alters existed, made Iris loathe those who said they were  _sick_.

Kevin wasn't sick, he was abused and afraid. She knew that feeling; she knew the desire to have something or someone there to protect you from the pain that was happening. The alters saved him, and they continue to protect him every day. You cannot cure  _fear_. You cannot cure memories. You cannot cure  _a person_  from within a person. That would be like saying Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia were diseases.

Slamming her laptop closed and pushing it away from herself, Iris released a huff of frustration as she glared at the tiny computer. How dare they? How dare they think that they could ever understand what had happened to those who were abused, those who did all they could to protect themselves.

If anything, the people in the world with D.I.D were better than those without; their minds had done something that no one else thought possible in the past. They had literally become  _more_ in order to survive the circumstances which had created them.

"They don't understand," she muttered to herself, looking down at her arms to take in the visible marks along her forearms and hand. "They didn't live through what we did."

Clenching her marked hand into a fist, she pushed aside the irritation and anger that bubbled inside her chest in favour of focusing on those who she had met so far. There were still so many others there for Kevin—and for her, she was beginning to realize—that it warmed her heart. She wanted to know them all. She wanted to thank them all.

If the alters had not become who they were, there was a likely possibility that Kevin would not have survived to meet her.

For any of them to meet her.

Perhaps…she could help Dr. Fletcher.

These days, soulmarks made everything legitimate. If she were to let Fletcher use her and Kevin—with all twenty-three of his alters—as an example that would prove they were real, that the other identities really existed, maybe they could help others to open their eyes. It would be the most terrifying thing she would ever do, exposing herself to the world in such a manner, but it might just be the way of saving others like her and Kevin in the future.

Sighing as she leaned back into her pillows, head coming to rest on the headboard of her bed, Iris closed her eyes.

It wasn't going to be an easy decision—she barely came up with the courage to talk with the older woman in the first place. Voluntarily putting herself into view of all those who hate someone like her?

Suddenly, her parents didn't scare her quite as much.

What would the other people in the world think? She and her soulmates would be hated, hunted and possibly attacked for what they were; for being different. Because the world couldn't stand those who were different—they didn't understand them, they feared them, and wanted to remove that which caused so much confusion in their perfect lives.

Collecting her laptop from the bed and placing it safely back in her case, Iris then perched on the end of her bed as she tried to relieve herself of the anxiety building up in her chest. She never thought the day would come that she would be debating on exposing herself so openly to the public.

The ways meeting a soulmate—or soulmates—changed her never really seemed to end.

That was the excuse she used when she found herself standing outside of Karen Fletcher's office the next day, tugging nervously on the sleeves of her winter jacket as her heart raced in her chest nervously. The older woman was understandably surprised when Iris asked if she could come and see her; stating that she wanted to help in any way she could to bring awareness to those with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

She was left to wait as Dr. Fletcher finished with her previous appointment; such was the curse of always showing up early to things.

The waiting gave her time to regret her decision, but she forced herself to remain where she was and do as she had placed her mind. Strong and sure. That is what her soulmates were making her become, someone who was strong and sure.

The door to Dr. Fletcher's office opened and Iris respectfully kept her eyes on the window as she listened to the person quietly tell the doctor farewell. Soft heels tapped slowly down the stairs as the other client left, prompting Iris to look over her shoulder to where Fletcher was waiting with a faint smile on her lips. "Come in, Iris."

Bowing her head in thanks, Iris slipped passed Fletcher and entered the familiar office while she slowly undid the buttons of her coat. "I…I wanted to apologize for how I ran out on you, Doctor. I just-"

"Oh, dear, there's absolutely no reason for you to apologize to me!" Fletcher rushed to dismiss Iris's concerns, waving her hands as she moved over to take the chair that she had occupied the last time Iris was there.

Draping her coat over the back of her chair, Iris ignored the glance she received from Fletcher when she exposed herself more than she had the previous visit. Her arms were still covered by longer sleeves, but she had removed the thick, protective barrier of her jacket. Settling into the chair with a faint sigh, Iris couldn't quite bring herself to relax as she repeated "this is for them" over and over in her head. She was doing this for her soulmates; they were the ones who were thought to not exist.

"I want the world to know they're real," she began right away, lacing her fingers above her lap as she met Fletcher's surprised gaze. "The alters; I want people to stop thinking that they can be 'cured' and removed from existence. I want to help people realize that the identities created are real people, just with a shared body."

Fletcher's aged face softened with a smile as she lifted a hand to press her fingertips against her lips. "I see that they have changed you, Iris." Her comment made the younger woman blush, looking away. They had, it was clear to see, even if she hadn't spoken a single word. "If you don't mind me asking, how many have you met?"

"Four," Iris answered. Fletcher knew how many alters there were in Kevin's body, so she would also be aware of the number of soulmates that Iris had. "Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia."

Fletcher's eyebrows went up in surprise, sitting forward in her chair suddenly. "Patricia? How was that meeting? I understand that many people become…unsettled when it comes to meeting a woman in a man's body."

A small frown pinched Iris's expression, but it faded quickly as she thought back to when she had woken up to Patricia at her door. "I was having a nightmare and the others could feel it—the more soulmates I meet, the stronger an emotional connection we have—and Patricia came over and woke me up when she knocked on the door. Having her there was very…comforting. I didn't have any trouble with the fact that she was an alter in Kevin's body."

Fletcher's smile returned, nodding her head gratefully. Iris truly was perfect as their soulmate.

"Are you sure you're ready to help them? To do what must be done to help people understand?"

Iris bowed her head a moment, falling silent as she, yet again, considered the other woman's questions. They were the same ones that she had been asking herself.

"I've spent so long being scared; looking over my shoulder and fearing every shadow. I don't want to do this forever. And…reading up on Dissociative Identity Disorder showed me that they really don't think that these alters are… _real_. They think that with therapy and pills they'll just disappear and I hate the thought of that. But these soulmarks are one thing that they consider…strong. They indicate that these alters are  _real_  people."

Fletcher relaxed back into her seat as she smiled softly at the young woman before her. "Look at you, Iris. You've changed."

_I know._

Seeing her begin to fidget, Fletcher was quick to stray from that particular direction of conversation. "If you decide to do this, is can be completely anonymous; no identifying information will be given out. Perhaps if you and the others sign over consent for other professionals to study your situation, but that is entirely up to you."

"I haven't spoken to the others about any of this, so I can't give you an answer for them. However, if you can promise me that it will be anonymous, then I'll do it." She closed her eyes as soon as the words left her mouth, forcing herself not to go back on them now.

She was not afraid. She would not hide. This was the decision she had made, on her own and with her own reasons.

"I'm very proud of you, Iris," Fletcher confessed as she smiled at the younger woman again. Her expression provided the truth to her words; she looked at Iris like a grandmother would, basking in the accomplishments of her family. "And you should be proud of yourself."

"I am," she admitted bashfully. "Terrified, but proud."

Fletcher shuffled toward the edge of her seat, moving closer to Iris as she continued to smile softly. "Talk to them about this, I'm sure they will be happy to support you if this is truly what you want. They've been trying to find a way to prove that they are real for a long time. One of the most upsetting things for them is to hear that people don't think they are alive—real people that can feel emotional pain from the words of others."

Iris's face pinched in pain, sorrowed to know that her soulmates were being hurt.

"Is there anything else you would like to speak about while you're here?" Fletcher prompted gently.

However, as much as Iris had improved since meeting her soulmates, the prompt still had her immediately coiling in on herself like taut spring. "No, that's alright. Maybe…in time, but not yet."

Holding up a hand to stall the woman's hesitant stumbled, Fletcher shook her head. "That's perfectly fine, dear. I'm not here to push or force. Just know that if there is ever someone you need to talk to, and you don't want to say it to your soulmates, I will happily lend an ear. Whether you want my opinion or not is up to you. If you just want to talk and let something off your chest,  _I am here_."

Letting out a long, slow exhale, Iris offered a shaky smile and nodded her head.

Rising to her feet, Iris made up her mind. "I'll talk to the others first, but I'm sure you'll be seeing me again soon," she explained calmly, quietly, as she collected her coat back over her arm and turned to face Fletcher with a soft look in his whiskey eyes.

That look alone told Fletcher that things were changing, and they were for the better. This young woman, as fragile and broken as she was, had a strength inside of her that was necessary for the soulmate for twenty-three separate identities. It was a hidden, buried strength, but it was there all the same. The more time that passed after having met and reconciled with Barry, the more visible that strength became. "I hope to see you again soon, dear. Say hello to the others for me?"

Nodding her head with a peaceful smile, much better than the tense one that had been growing as they spoke, Iris turned for the door. "I will, Dr. Fletcher. Have a good day."

Once Iris had departed, the older woman leaned back in her chair with a soft and thoughtful hum. If the others supported Iris and they were able to use the soulmarks shared between the two bodies, there was a possibility that favour could finally be tipped in their direction. However, that did not mean that it would not be a struggle for them—especially for Iris. As much as Fletcher thrilled at the thought of solid proof, finally, that others would struggle to argue…she did not want to damage the small woman further.

Proud as she was that Iris was refusing to let her fear rule her, Fletcher was deeply concerned that the fear is also what had kept her safe for so long. Even with her soulmates there, Iris would be in danger of a dark change in her life.

Glancing over to the chair that the young woman had vacated, she could only hope that this would not turn out to be a terrible mistake. As much as she wished to reveal to the world the truth behind all of her years of research, she did not want to do so at the expense of Iris's happiness and safety, and that of her soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m terribly sorry for the delay on this chapter! I’ll admit I’ve been in a bit of a funk after my accident (broken arm, this cast itches so bad) and haven’t really had to desire to write. However, I was determined to get this out because I know that all my loyal readers were waiting! I wish I could have given you another soulmate meeting, but I don’t intend to rush things. I’ll try to get the next chapter out much sooner.


	18. My Peace, Like Shattered Glass

"Ow!"

"That's why I wear gloves," Iris teased gently as she smoothed a Band-Aid over the badly stinging cut that Jessica had obtained when trying to rip open a box—it was basically a papercut, but when it was caused by cardboard, the pain was considerably more; as was the amount of blood that had welled up to the surface of the cut.

"I thought that was to hide the mark," Jessica admitted quietly, her low voice deliberately making sure that their coworkers didn't hear what she said. "You're always wearing them."

"This is the fourth time you've cut yourself this week," Iris pointed out in counterattack, causing the younger woman to flush in embarrassment before she simply shrugged her shoulders. There was no defense against that. Iris shook her head with a gentle smile, collecting the garbage from disinfecting and covering the cut, tossing them into the nearby trashcan of the office. "You should get a pair, you know. Boxes and books don't just cause papercuts, but they dehydrate your hands as well. Wearing a pair of these will stop that."

"Don't rub it in," Jessica grumbled half-heartedly. Iris just gave that same smile as she stood up.

"I know it's a bit earlier than usual, but why not take your break now?" Iris asked instead, briefly checking the time on the bottom of the office computer's screen. Jessica agreed easily, happy to get off shift and eat something. The two women went their separate ways once they left the office, Iris making her way back into the store as she smiled to her coworkers and reclaimed her place behind the register.

She knew they were whispering about her, confused by why she was constantly smiling and always seemed to be happy. Not that she'd been doom and gloom before, but they couldn't remember a time when she had smiled and showed her happiness so openly and constantly. Jessica was still the only one to know about her marks—or at least the fact that there is more than one—but they had all been able to notice the change in their manager in the past few weeks. She'd gotten worse, to the point that she had been forced to take time off, before she miraculously got better.

There were still days when they could tell she hadn't slept well, for whatever reason, but they were few and far between.

Iris wasn't able to see her soulmates every day, try as either of them might, but they spoke constantly. She would wake up to emails from whoever was in the light that day, but she would usually write to all of them every morning—she hated feeling like any of her soulmates were being neglected. Continuing to do this as more and more of them are met, she isn't sure, but she knows that she will go out of her way to make sure they are all…loved. Welcomed and acknowledged for their individuality.

It was surprisingly difficult to focus on her work—she had never had anything in her life to distract her before. Even fear of her parents had bled away after a time, but her soulmates were ever present on her mind.

Absentmindedly, Iris stroked a fingertip over the mark on the back of her palm.

They were all so different, it made her wonder who else was in the body of Kevin Crumb. When would she meet Hedwig, the supposed child? Or Jade, a younger female than Patricia?

"Looks like the cold-front has arrived," Sarah called from the front window, a box perched on her hip as she glanced back toward Iris. The young woman's eyes turned to the window, blinking in shock at the white-out of flurries that had overtaken the view outside the storefront.

Her face pinched slightly uncomfortably, knowing that her walk home was going to be horrendous. "That's gunna be so cold," she mumbled to herself, but it was loud enough for Sarah to hear. It had been chilly enough on the walk in to work, heading home through the snow was going to be so much worse. Sarah gave her a pitying look before she turned to get back to work.

Instead of letting herself become distracted by thoughts of walking home, Iris collected one of the boxes that needed to be scanned through and took it to the main counter. Sarah continued to clean and organize the front displays—it was a quiet day and there was very little to do for the group without more customers coming in.

Iris herself had been there since five o'clock that morning, completing some of the reports that needed to be sent to the owners by the end of that week. Not wanting to wait and rush through it, she decided to come in a few hours before her usual time and get in a bit of silent work. She was feeling more exhausted as the day drew on, but at least her sleep the night before had been a fitful one until her alarm had gone off.

Of course, her day did not get any better when she got a call from David, who sounded like death, saying that he had tried but he wouldn't be able to come in to work. As an old habit, she didn't want to bother anyone else and just decided that she would stay for the full shift and close the store down as well. Jessica and Sarah both shooed her to the back for a long break, however, and made sure she ate the soup she had brought and even made her a tea with the kettle they had in the break room.

It made Iris wonder if they had gotten a lecture about how she was always doing things for them. Her boss definitely had not liked how she was always working, taking the weekend and evening shifts or filling in for the others when they did not or could not come in. It wouldn't have surprised her if her employees had gotten a lecture during her forced days off.

"Do you want me to get you a tea? Or a coffee? How about-"

"Jessica," Iris interrupted, her voice carrying an amused tone as she shook her head at the younger woman. "Calm down! I'm fine, I promise. There's only a few more hours before close and the snow kept it quiet today. I promise I'll head straight home and eat."

"Remember, I'm opening the store tomorrow so I better not find you here early," Jessica forewarned, pointing a threatening finger at the frail woman. "I swear, I'll make you sleep in the break room."

Shaking her head at Jess's antics, Iris motioned toward the door. "Go home, Jess. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

She was given one more warning look before her new friend and old coworker disappeared out the door into the white flurries that had dominated the window most of the day. Supressing a yawn, Iris sat herself down at the main cash with some of the paperwork from the back office—she still had work that she needed to get done, even if she had to stay and help Sarah until closing.

The odd person or two would wander in throughout the day, making small or simple purchases that Iris handled easily and with little thought. Sarah kept up with cleaning and stocking to busy herself, giving Iris several assurances that she would take care of the aisles and to not worry. By the time the final hour rolled around, and it had been at least forty-five minutes since the last customer, Iris was tempted to send Sarah home early.

The shelves were spotless and there were no other boxes that needed to be put out, so there was nothing else for the young woman to do. Iris had even spent a good thirty minutes explaining to her how to run the computer programs that she used to manage all of the store's books. Sarah just sat with a bewildered look on her face and they both decided that management was not something that she was interested in learning.

"It's deserted today," Iris finally declared, leaning against the counter as Sarah wandered by with a dusting rag. "You head on home, okay? I'll stay and finish my paperwork and if someone does come by I can handle it."

Sarah blinked at her owlishly. "Are you sure? I don't mind staying!"

"There's no point in both of us being bored out of our minds. Head on home, I'll be fine."

And then there was one.

Iris fought another yawn as she glanced at the computer screen. Just one more hour. Sitting back in her chair to rub at her tired eyes, the dark haired woman could feel them sting slightly with the effort she had been putting in to keep her eyes open.

She used to have no problem staying up for ungodly hours, but she'd been adjusting to a new way of living lately and now it seems going back to how things were would be impossible.

Sitting forward with a silent sigh, she tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her. Only a minute had gone by before her concentration was  _shattered_ , similar to the store window that exploded in a shower of glass as something was sent flying through it.

A shriek of surprise tore from her lips as Iris ducked behind the desk, too far for the object to reach but fear drawing the defensive reaction to the forefront. Her heart had rocketed into a galloping pace in her chest, hands shaking in fright against the edge of the counter. The roar of wind and the tinkling of glass hitting the once clean floors filled the silence of the store.

The rush of cold against her covered arms and bare neck made her shiver, skin already beginning to feel feverish from the sudden rush of adrenaline that flooded her system. Shivering and panting, Iris remained crouched and hidden as she waited and listened for any sign that the person who had broken the window might come inside.

However, even as time passed and nothing happened, she couldn't bring herself to move. Trembling in fear and shivering from the cold, her hands gripped the desk above her head until her knuckles were white beneath her gloves. Eventually the distant sound of police sirens broke the silence, bringing her mind back to the present. She'd forgotten about the security system—if one of the doors were opened while the code was inputted, the police were alerted, but if a window was broken at any time the police were called immediately.

Trying to force her hands to relax on the edge of the desk, the sirens grew louder until the police cars came to a screeching halt outside of the store.

Taking in deep breaths of the cold air, Iris exhaled through trembling lips as she finally detached her hands from the desk. Shuffling out from her hiding place, she used the desk to support herself as she finally stood up and surveyed the damage. The front was a mess now, a combination of glass and snow covering the floor and surrounding displays.

The first thing that came to her mind was how the books were going to be ruined if they got snowed on.

"Police, don't move!"

Iris jumped and choked back a gasp, hands shooting up as one of the officers stopped outside of the broken window. She was the only person visible in the store, so she could understand being suspicious.

"I'm the manager!" she shouted, her voice shaking. "My name is Iris Mayfair, my employers are Melissa and Gerald McIntosh. They would have been contacted as soon as the alarm was set off."

"Please step out where I can see you, ma'am. Do you have ID on you?"

Walking around the desk on shaky legs, her hands still raised, Iris nodded. "My employee card; it's with the keys around my wrist." She shook her arm to demonstrate, causing the keys to jingle soundly and flash the little badge attached to it that had a barcode scanner for her to access the computers upon opening. Jess had one as well, for when she opened the store.

"Are you hurt?" the man asked as he stepped forward, some of the other officers entering behind him as they surveyed the damage and entered the store, checking through the aisles.

"No, I was behind the desk-"

"You have glass in your hair," the officer interrupted gently once he had checked the ID on her wrist, comparing the information she had given to him with the name and photo on the card. Naturally, her hand lifted to her head to feel for the sharp projectiles. Thankfully, the officers caught her arm gently to stop her before she cut her hand. "No, don't worry. It's only a few pieces. Shake your head and they should fall right off."

Iris did as instructed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. She could feel when the fragments fell out, tapping down past her shoulders before they hit the already messy floor.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" the officers asked again—a glance at his shirt revealed his name was Montez—and Iris nodded her head dazedly. "Were you the only one working?"

Iris stood in the storefront with the officer as she answered his questions, giving him the time to write them down between answers. As the wind and snow continued to blow into the store, Iris steadily started to shiver more heavily. The adrenaline was bleeding from her system, causing her vision to blur in and out. Montez must have seen her sway on her feet because he abruptly stopped talking and reached out to claim her arm.

"Woah, let's go sit you down. Is there a back office in this place? Somewhere warm?"

"Yes, just back down that aisle. There's a door that leads to the stock-room at the end."

The place was crawling with police by now, and one of them informed her and Montez that the owners were on their way down. There was a camera out front that might have caught the person who threw what turned out to be an old pipe through the window, but Iris didn't have authorization to scroll back into the recorded footage so she was no help to them.

As they entered the back office to finish giving her statement, Iris found herself wishing that her soulmates were with her. Glancing at the nearest clock, she realized that they would be home by now and waiting for her to let them know that she was home safe.

Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" Montez asked from across from her, worry clearly evident on his face as she trembled and stared blankly at the clock. "Is there someone you'd like me to call for you?"

Small and pale, Iris look like a terrified, small animal. The chair she was in made her appear that much smaller; her feet didn't touch the floor and her boney frame was enveloped in the black leather of the chair-back. Montez felt like he was interviewing a terrified child. If she got any paler in her face, he'd be calling in the paramedics to check on her again. She looked on the verge of passing out.

The liquid gold of her eyes watered further as she gave a stuttered nod.

"Kevin Crumb," she answered meekly. "His number is in my cellphone," she answered, motioning to where she had left the phone on the office desk. She preferred not to have her cellphone with her when she was working, so she usually left it in the back office.

She was probably never going to do that again, not after what she had just experienced.

Montez nodded calmly, picking up the small phone and having her input the password before he stepped away. One of the other officers, a woman named Sinclair, came into the office briefly to inform Iris that her employers were here and she could leave once her statement was complete, they would help the police with anything else needed.

Iris just gave a short nod as she stared at the floor, yet to regain any colouring in her face.

Sinclair gave Montez a sympathetic look as she left, understanding that speaking to someone who was in shock could be a trying endeavor.

The ringing in his ear cut off, drawing his attention back to Iris's phone. " _Hey, Iris, you get home okay_?" The casual question, filled with true concern, almost caused the officer to wince. He hated when he had to tell the unsuspecting spouse or loved one that something had happened. At least Iris appeared unhurt and he could offer that assurance.

"This is Officer Liam Montez; is this Kevin Crumb?"

There was a pause on the other end, silence filling the line for a long beat. "Where's Iris?" the male voice demanded, upping in pitch as fear sharpened his words.

"Miss. Mayfair is fine; someone threw an item through the window of her store but she is safe and unharmed. It would be best if someone was with her right now, she's in a bit of shock and will able to leave as soon as we finish getting her statement. She asked me to call you—are you able to come down to Pages of the World right now?"

" _Yes, yea, I'm on my way. She's alright? You said she wasn't hurt_?"

"She was far enough away that she only got a bit of glass in her hair, but no, she wasn't hurt. I might recommend bringing her something warm, preferably tea or something that doesn't have caffeine in it."

" _Can I talk to her, please? Just for a second_?" the plea in the man's words were impossible to ignore—Montez was certain, as he turned to hand the phone to Iris, that this was a soulmate he was dealing with.

Iris could barely hold onto the phone as she leaned her head heavily against the cellphone, into the pressure of Montez's continued grip on the device. He was sure that she would have dropped it if he hadn't helped hold it up. "Hello?" He couldn't hear the man's words, but Iris's bow-tight body finally relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice.

Definitely soulmates.

" _Hey, Sweetheart, it's Barry. You okay? I'm on my way right now_."

"I don't feel good," Iris answered weakly, as though she was ashamed of her body's reaction.

" _That's just the shock, Sweetheart. I'll be there in ten, okay? Just try and take some deep breaths. Are you sitting down_?"

"Mhm." The conversation barely lasted a few seconds more before Iris suddenly dropped her hand, letting Montez pull the phone away. Glancing at the screen told him that the man had already ended the call, so he simply placed her phone on the desk as he reclaimed the other chair.

"Are you alright to continue?"

Swallowing thickly, Iris gave a tired nod as she met his eyes again.


	19. Beneath the Gentle Snow

Iris had not moved by the time Barry arrived in the store. He had to show Kevin's ID to prove he was he one that Iris was expecting—he was incredibly thankful she had given Kevin's name and not one of the alters, or that would be much harder to explain. He had taken the officer's advice and was carrying a warm cup of tea from the café they had gone to that first night, guided around the mess of glass and the owners of the store who were speaking with a detective on scene.

The sight of the broken window and cops swarming all over the place had his hand tightening on the cup, trying not to picture how terrified Iris must have been when someone broke the window. She had sounded as though she was on the cusp of breaking down when he spoke with her on the phone, and that was after she had some time to calm down.

Led to the back of the store by a woman named Sinclair, she stopped Barry right before they were to enter the back office. "Here, let me take that from you," she proposed, motioning to the tea. "I'm sure you'll want your hands free."

Barry nodded numbly as he handed her the tea—he hadn't even thought of that. He probably would have just dropped the damn thing to let Iris into his arms. With his hands now free, the officer nodded to the door as a silent instruction to head inside. The door was slightly ajar already, a man's voice drifting from within. Pushing the door open slowly, Barry stood in the doorway of the small office as he watched Iris sign the bottom of her police statement regarding the incident.

The sight of his tiny soulmate, one hand tucked in close to her chest and the other shaking unsteadily as she tried to sign the paper, nearly broke his heart. Knowing she had been in danger was more nerve-wracking than the nights he had known she was struggling to sleep—first because of their unfortunate beginning, and then again because of her father.

"Miss. Mayfair, you can finish this at the station. Just come by tomorrow, give yourself some time to calm down," the male officer with her was instructing, trying to persuade her from continuing to attempt a sloppy signature from her shaking hand.

"Iris," Barry called finally, more a sigh of relief to see that she truly wasn't hurt than anything else. Immediately, her head snapped to the side, chocolate braid flying, and those watery, whiskey eyes landed on him with a look of such relief that Barry was moving before he even thought about doing so.

He didn't care about the cops or the noise or the tiny space they were stuck in. Iris leapt from the chair and was infolded tightly in his arm in the next instant, small arms wrapped around him so tightly he was momentarily stunned by her strength. Releasing the breath he had been holding, Barry pulled her in against him until she had nearly disappeared into the bulk of his arms and coat. She made no sound, but he could feel her entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Part of it was because of the adrenaline that must have flooded her system, now beginning to dissipate, but he also noticed that she was only in the thin, long sleeved shirt she had been wearing for work. They may have been in the back, but the window had been busted long enough that the entire store was frigid with the cold wind that had blown in earlier that day.

Her hands were icy against his back, the cold reaching him through his shirt. Keeping one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, he used his free hand to rub up and down her back soothingly, trying to use the friction to bring more warmth at the same time. "You're freezing, Sweetheart. Where's your coat?"

"Locker," she mumbled against his chest, the word barely audible. "In the break room."

"I'll go," the officer that had been with her volunteered, stepping away from the couple and silently leaving the room as Sinclair leant past Barry to place the hot tea on the desk next to Iris's statement. A moment later, they were alone.

"You promise you're okay, Iris? You didn't get hurt?" Barry asked a moment later, shifting his hold so he could run his hand along her soft hair—he'd said she got some glass in it, hadn't he? That window had exploded with a pretty decent distance; there was glass all the way down the aisles.

"I'm okay now," she assured, tightening her hands in the back of his shirt. "I just want to warm up, and lie down." Pulling back just enough to look up at him, Barry felt his heart clench at the paleness of her cheeks, and the shadows beneath her eyes. It reminded him of the night they met up again at Dr. Fletcher's, when Iris had come running without her coat.

Framing her face with his hands, her skin cold against his warm palms, Barry watched as she relaxed into the touch and sighed from the warm feeling. "Come back to our place tonight," he proposed abruptly, blurting out the suggestion before he really thought about it. She blinked in surprise. "You'll be safe, and I don't want you to be left alone."

Her expression softened and her eyes drifted closed before she nodded against his hands. Her agreement finally let Barry relax, knowing that he could keep an eye on her and assure himself and the others that she was safe with them. Still cradling her face, he leant down to press a warm kiss against her forehead, letting out a trembling exhale. Finally, his heart began to beat normally in his chest. He would need to speak with the others, but he knew they would all agree with his offer and welcome their soulmate in with open, grateful arms.

"Miss. Mayfair." Pulling back enough, Barry and Iris both looked over to Montez, who stood holding her coat and bag in his hands. "You can go home now. Please get some rest tonight, and you can come by the station tomorrow to review and sign your statement."

Nodding reluctantly, Iris admitted defeat. Her hands were too shaky to sign her name, and her brain grew foggier as the adrenaline wore off. "Thank you, Officer Montez." Barry helped her pull on her coat and took her bag for her. She was soon bundled in her coat and scarf, the tea Barry had purchased cradled carefully between her hands. Initially, she was worried she would drop it, but it was only a small and was light enough she could keep her grip on the warm beverage. Barry accepted a card from Montez with his information on it, saying that he'd be working the next day and to just ask for him.

Montez stayed to collect her statement as Sinclair escorted them back to the front. Mrs. McIntosh stopped her just briefly to check on her and assure her that the store would be closed the next day. She smiled gratefully at Barry, the look in her eye telling him that she knew exactly what his connection with Iris was, before she let the two of them head outside.

An officer offered to give them a ride, Barry accepting gratefully now that they wouldn't need to try and hail a cab or call a company to have one come by. Kevin's ID had an apartment provided at the south side of the zoo, so it wouldn't be suspicious to have them dropped off there by the officer. He didn't usually go to Kevin's work-provided apartment, but it came in handy now and then. The cop opened the door for them and Barry helped Iris to bundle herself in first before he joined her.

As soon as he was beside her, Iris folded herself into his side with the tea still between her palms. Barry heaved a sigh of relief as he let his head rest atop hers.

They had been preparing somewhere for her, but it was far from being complete. He would let her stay in his room tonight and they would figure out where to go from there. If she wanted to stay more than one night, he would gladly give up his room for however long she wanted. Knowing Iris, she would feel terrible about taking his room, but she also didn't understand how deeply he and the others felt for her already. They would burn the world if she asked.

Being so close to the zoo, it only took a few short minutes for them to pull up at the gates to the back entrance. Barry quickly thanked the officer when he opened the door for them, helping Iris out as she continued to clutch the tea. He watched her eyes widen in interest when she finally took in where they were. The sounds of the animals could still be heard in the distant buildings, too far to be seen.

"The zoo," she mumbled in surprise. Then her lips lifted in a tired smile. "You live in the zoo?" Barry watched the cruiser pull away before he spoke.

"Well, under it," Barry answered sheepishly. "Come on, I'll show you."

Pulling out the ring of keys—a rather large number of keys—he unlocked the gates and led Iris inside. Keeping an arm around her, he watched her as she took in their surroundings, her expression showing no sign of disgust or judgement about his accommodations. "Is that why you work for the zoo?" she asked after a minute of walking up the winding paths. "Because you live here? Or do you live here because you work for the zoo?"

"I got the job first and found out that a bunch of the old buildings were abandoned, so I started working on making a place for all of us. We all have space here, so it was perfect. It's…not very legal, but-"

Iris took his hand gently, cradling her tea against her chest so as not to drop it. He stopped talking, glancing down at her kind expression as she stroked her warm, gloved thumb over the back of his hand. "I lived on the streets, remember? You found and made yourselves a home. I see nothing wrong with that."

A smile grew across Barry's lips as she spoke, feeling his face warm at her kindness. "You're perfect, Sweetheart, you know that?"

Iris repressed the urge to scoff, but pursed her lips slightly as she bowed her head. Barry stopped them outside the door to the underground tunnels, turning Iris to face him. Drawing her in closer, he pressed a firm kiss against his cheekbone before wrapping her in his arms again—careful of her tea between them.

"You're perfect, Iris. I'm so glad you're mine."

She shivered at the feeling of his breath at her ear, his words reaching the depths of her soul. One of her arms slipped up to wrap around his neck, returning his embrace as she buried her face against his neck. Her emotions welled inside of her like a storm; she wanted to laugh and to cry, fighting against a whimper of all things that wanted to burst free from her chest. Holding Barry only caused the emotions to surge stronger, making her tremble against his presence.

"I love you," she whispered instead, keeping her hold around his neck and shoulders tight. The muscles beneath her hand twitched and tensed for a moment before he relaxed against her, while bringing her in closer. The warm breath against her ear shuddered, like he was fighting to breathe. The words felt right as they rolled off her tongue, her heart free of regrets.

She loved him. She loved all of them. Having met them or not, they were hers and she loved them with all of her heart.

She would burn the world for them, too.

Turning his head to press a kiss against temple, Barry could feel the burn of tears as happiness threatened to overwhelm the rest of his senses. "I love you, too." He felt her draw back enough to return the kiss he had given her upon his cheek, lips trembling and warm breath teasing his skin. Pulling back enough to meet her gaze, whiskey eyes glistening much like his own, he couldn't stop the smile that brightened his features.

Snow peppered Iris's dark hair and the mix of emotions and cold air had brought a rosy colour to her cheeks. She was the picture of beauty as she gazed up at him with her lips turned up the faintest bit to mirror his smile, her palm warm against his cheek as she shifted her hold on him. He could see only happiness and peace in her expression, her confession done with honest emotions. "I love you, Barry," she repeated, her voice stronger this time.

Barry's cheeks nearly hurt with the force of his smile, watching as Iris's smile grew as well at the sight of his emotions so clearly on display. His head tipped forward to rest his beanie-covered forehead against hers. Taking a moment to silently bask in the moment, he took in the sensation of Iris's thumb caressing his cheek and the gentle warmth of each exhale warming his lips against the cold wind.

Remembering the morning that he had walked her to work, Barry gazed into warm amber before he closed his eyes and tipped his head. His lips claimed hers, completing the kiss that almost was when she had turned her head that one morning. A soft sigh escape her before she lifted her chin to press back, parting her lips just slightly to take his bottom lips between hers. Closing her eyes completely, unbidden but joyful tears streamed down her cheeks.

A shiver disrupted the peace as icy wind blew across the back of Iris's neck, the smile on her face assuring Barry that her tears were not of sadness when he pulled away to look down upon her. "Let's get you inside," he offered, keeping a warm, heavy arm across her shoulders as he unlocked the door for them and pulled it open with ease.

Iris shuffled in ahead of him, shaking the snow from her hair as he closed and locked the door behind them.

Flipping on the hall lights, a set of stairs immediately descended into the underground tunnels. Barry shook his shoulders as he looked bashfully at the ground. He knew that she wouldn't judge, but he still wished he could show her a nicer place to stay. She noticed his silence and reached back to take his hand again. "Show me," she encouraged softly, using the other hand that still held the tea to carefully wipe her cheek.

Barry reached forward naturally, wiping the other cheek free of salty tears.

Holding her hand, he led her down the stairs and into the confining tunnels that he and the others had made their home.

Majority of the walk was hallways with dim lighting, kept fairly clean because of Dennis's habits and Patricia's concerned nature. Their steps echoed off the walls as he guided her into the center of the abandoned buildings, where the old employees of the zoo had offices and break rooms, which included the kitchen that thankfully had working appliances.

Unlocking the last door that separated his home from the halls, Barry held it open for Iris to enter first. Iris stepped inside and immediately began looking around, taking in the sparingly placed décor and personal items. With so many different personalities and preferences, she could understand that one main way of decorating would be hard. Some furniture was spread sporadically, yet meticulously, and she could detect touches of Patricia from the throws or pillows that were placed carefully around the little living room.

The bookshelves were a bit of a disaster and she could see little piles of papers with writing and drawings from where she stood.

A set of dumbbells were stashed beneath one of the couches, barely peeking into her sight. Luke's leather jacket was hung on the corner of the chair at the table, a woman's soft red pea coat on the opposite side.

Barry watched as she took in the minute details that were haphazardly spread throughout the main room. The kitchen was off to the side, Patricia's collection of herbs stacked in main view and the large cupboard of cereals left open from that morning when he'd made breakfast before work. "What…what do you think?" he asked nervously, even though he could see her lips turned up in a smile.

"I can see you," she answered quietly. "And Luke," she added, motioning to the jacket, "BT, Patricia…"

Barry relaxed as he watched her attention jump from possession to possession, seeing her soulmates among the chaos. She could also see a few children's colouring books, and several different types of shoes neatly sectioned away. Walking over to the corner that had some of his drawings scattered about, Barry swallowed as he watched her inspect some of his work. Her attention was caught by one of the more recent ones, which he was wishing he'd stashed away now, that he had drawn with her in mind. The model was faceless, but it was of a thin, small woman that appeared enveloped in a plush jacket of whiskey-coloured softness. He had tried to capture the colour of Iris's eyes, but it was a difficult shade to recreate.

"These are amazing, Barry," she breathed out in awe, leaning closer to take in some of the details. "You're very talented."

"Thanks," he mumbled bashfully as he pulled his beanie off. "Uhm, we've been getting a room ready for you but it's not quite done. You can…stay in my room tonight. I'll ask one of the others if I can use their room-"

"Barry," she interrupted softly, moving to place her tea down on the little dining table. "I don't want to kick you out of your room." He opened his mouth to insist, but Iris placed her fingertips against his tips before he could get a sound out. "You slept next to me when you were at my apartment. Can you stay with me again?"

He hadn't even really thought about it until that moment, but she probably didn't want to be alone after the fright at the store. She had no clue who had thrown the pipe through the window, for all she knew it could have been her father, or the man and his wife that had tried to get the money from her for a refund that didn't exist.

"My bed's a bit smaller than yours," he admitted in forewarning, but she just smiled up at him.

She looked ready to speak again before her words were interrupted by a long, deep yawn that caused a quiet popping sound in her jaw. Barry pursed his lips at the adorable sight of her covering her mouth with the sleeve of her coat, eyes squeezed closed.

"I'll give you a proper tour tomorrow," he offered, moving to turn off the lamp on the desk. "For now, time for bed."

Iris was physically and emotionally drained, the slight boost in energy from their moment outside beginning to subside and return the exhaustion of an adrenaline crash.

Guiding her through the smaller hallways to his room, Barry began shuffling through his closet to pick out some warm, clean clothes for her to wear. She was going to be swimming in anything he gave her, so he found the warmer items that he owned—a pair of sweatpants that could be tied at the waist, and a long sleeved, flannel sleep shirt. "Here, you can wear these tonight. Are you hungry at all?"

Iris shook her head as she took the clothes from him. "I don't think I could stomach anything right now."

Showing her to the nearby washroom, crowded with different soaps, towels, toothbrushes and other supplies, she took the new toothbrush that he offered her before he left her alone to change and have a moment to herself.

Iris closed the door of the bathroom and placed the clothes he had given her on the counter, avoiding the different razors and face soaps that covered a decent amount of its surface. Her gaze travelled over the twenty-three different toothbrushes, as well as the abundance of hooks on the back wall that each had a different coloured towel hanging from it. She had wondered how all of the personalities lived among one another; seeing it now, it only made her more curious.

Quickly brushing her teeth and washing her face, she pulled on the large clothes that Barry had provided. The pants had to be rolled at the ankles and waist in order to remain up, and the sleeves of the shirt hung past her wrists and draped loose around her thin shoulders. The sight of herself in Barry's clothes almost made her laugh. She looked like a small child in an adults clothing. Pulling her hair from the braid and brushing it out with her fingers, she took a deep, calming breath to ease the fluttering in her stomach.

Would it be different to fall asleep next to Barry after she had confessed her love for him? After the kiss they had shared?

Finishing up in the bathroom and collecting her armful of clothes, jacket included, Iris stepped out into the hallway and spotted Barry waiting just outside of his room in a different set of clothes. As soon as he saw her emerge from the washroom, he pushed hurriedly off of the wall and watched her approach him with an amused look brightening his baby-blue eyes.

"I look like a kid," Iris said first, knowing why he looked so amused.

"It's cute," he assured, motioning her into his room.

The walls were almost completely covered in drawings, several sketchbooks and portfolios stacked on the desk and shelves he had installed around the room. He'd hurriedly made his bed when she was in the washroom and had snatched an extra pillow from the linen closet. "I'm gunna go brush my teeth. Just…make yourself at home."

Watching him duck back out into the hallway, Iris carefully put her clothes on the chair in front of his desk, trying not to disturb any of the papers scattered around. She spotted another drawing similar to the one she had seen in the living room area, this time with the woman in the drawing wearing an elegant black dress with lace designs.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, she stepped away before getting too caught up and shuffled over to the bed. Shyly drawing back the covers, she tried not to overthink as she slipped under the sheets, the smell of Barry's soap and cologne immediately overwhelming her senses. Relaxing into the familiar, comforting scent, her exhaustion returned almost instantaneously.

It felt as though her body became boneless as she lay beneath the warm covers of Barry's bed, the pillow beneath her head smelling like clean linen. She was barely aware of the lights turning off, her eyes only opening when she felt the mattress dip and the covers shift slightly to adjust to the new body settling beneath. There was still a light on somewhere, probably the hall, because she could barely make out the sight of Barry lying across from her.

"Thank you, Barry," she mumbled tiredly. It was doubtful that she would have slept if she had gone back to her apartment and spent the night alone.

"Anything for you, Sweetheart," he assured quietly, the deep rumble of his lowered voice causing her to smile before she shuffled closer to his body. His arm came around her naturally, enfolding her against his chest as she sighed in contentment. "Goodnight, Iris."

"'Night," she mumbled back, barely aware enough to get the word out before she had dropped off to sleep. Barry remained awake for a short while more, watching over her as she slept to make sure that no nightmares disturbed her sleep. He couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he held her tight, delaying his own sleep to enjoy the time he had with her in his arms. He wasn't sure what was to come when they woke in the morning, but he knew that he would need to share her with the others again. He wanted to enjoy his time while he could.

He fell asleep to her even, gentle breaths against his chest and the whispers of the other alters in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I'm so sorry for the incredibly long wait. I was determined to get another chapter out and now I've rediscovered my love for these stories. I'm all healed up now, too, so whenever I have some free time I will definitely be working on these stories. Thank you to everyone who's stayed so loyal and waited all this time for an update, I hope they didn't disappoint.


	20. Cinnamon and Whiskey

Iris was accustomed to waking up alone—when living on the streets, it had been a blessing, and when living by herself it was expected. However, since meeting Barry she had many mornings that she had woken with one of her soulmates. The sensation of her head rising and falling with the elevation of a chest as her soulmate breathed deeply with sleep, it was somehow intimate and familiar after so short a time.

Barely awake, Iris was unable to fight the yawn that had her tipping her head back and away from her soulmate's chest—she ended up resting her head in the cradle of his arm instead, letting her cheek rest against his pec muscle.

Still breathing deeply, the arm around her shoulders drew in and brought her closer. Sighing in contentment as she gratefully accepted the embrace, Iris slipped her arm over his stomach to return the hold. She could feel him move before gentle breaths shuffled her hair and his nose buried in the crown of her hair.

Taking a deep breath when she felt another yawn coming forward, her brain woke abruptly—cutting off the yawn before it could start—when she realized she was not lying on Barry. His smell was familiar to her now, especially since she was sleeping in his bed, but the person that was letting her use them as a pillow smelled different. There was more of a spice to their scent, like cinnamon and something she couldn't put her finger on.

Opening her eyes, the room still as dark as it had been when she fell asleep, Iris carefully lifted her head so as not to bump his nose as she turned to look at the newest face. The light from the hall lit his face enough for her to see his eyes were open, but not enough to take in the minute changes that occurred in each of her soulmate's expressions.

Silence stretched between them as Iris met his gaze, feeling the halt of his breath when he realized she was aware of a new identity being in the light. Barry had confessed that the others she had met were surprised at how easily she could tell them apart, but there were only a few that she needed to distinguish between so far.

Letting a smile warm her expression, Iris dropped her chin to rest on his—or her?—collar bone as she continued to gaze up at the soft blue eyes watching her. "You smell like cinnamon," she declared gently.

A full, boisterous laugh broke from her soulmate as his head tipped back. She was shaken alongside his laugh as his body shook and rocked beneath her hold, causing her to smile wider. "Cinnamon?" a feminine lilt responded. "I hope you like cinnamon."

A woman. The thought warmed Iris, knowing that she was meeting more of the female personalities within her soulmate's body. "I love cinnamon," she assured. "Good morning," she added a moment later, shifting to prop herself up on one elbow.

"Good morning," the alter responded, shifting to mirror her position so they were lying on their sides, facing one another. "My name's Felicia, by the way. I'm so happy to finally meet you, Iris." Reaching forward, she carefully swept some of the light-brown hair from Iris's face, letting her see the entirety of her soulmate's pale face. "Interesting choice of soulmark, too."

Iris let out a breathy laugh as she ducked her head, suddenly bashful of her choice in words. "I felt it was better than the generic 'Good morning' that I could have said. It's unique, right?"

Felicia laughed again, nodding in agreement. "Barry told us what happened. How are you feeling?" With the hand she had used to sweep aside her hair, Felicia stroked the soft skin of Iris's cheek as she carefully examined her expression for any changes upon mentioning the incident from the day before. "Sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. And I'm alright. It's kind of a blur now, I guess from the adrenaline of everything."

Nodding in understanding, the newest alter sighed faintly. "We felt your fear—well, the others who've met you felt it strongest but because Barry was in the light, we all kind of felt it alongside him. I hate that you had to go through that."

Iris carefully took the hand from her cheek to cradle in her smaller palm, letting her fingertips dance across the skin—it felt softer than Barry's hands usually did. "I'm alright, now. It does scare me to think who could have done that, but…I have you guys, so it's easier to bear."

Smiling again, Felicia reclaimed her hand and leaned forward to take Iris in a hug. It baffled her to feel how thin her soulmate actually is, especially when Iris returned her embrace and wrapped a thin arm around her waist. She'd noticed it when she felt Iris before she woke, but it was a shocking difference between their physical bodies. "So, breakfast?" Felicia proposed while leaning back to take in Iris's shadowed face. She regretted how dark the room was when meeting Iris for the first time, but it wasn't often the other soulmate would be able to say they woke up to Iris in their arms for their initial meeting.

"I have to go to the police station to sign my statement; want to get something on the way?"

"Totally!" Felicia agreed, then proceeded to leap out of Barry's bed and almost rush for the door. Iris sat up and watched her nearly trip as she came to an abrupt stop and spun back to face her. "Uhm…I could lend you something to wear, but…"

Iris waved her off with a smile, then motioned over to her clothing from the day before. "It's okay, my clothes from yesterday will be fine. We can go back to my apartment after, though, and I can show you where I live?"

"Yes! Okay, be right back!"

Iris laughed quietly to herself as the other woman disappeared, still wearing Barry's sleep clothes. Shuffling out of the warm bed, Iris shivered in the cool air from the underground tunnels. It made her reluctant to take off Barry's clothes, warm as they were. However, she couldn't very-well leave for the station in oversized sweats.

Slipping back into her own pants, she stopped short of pulling off the sleep shirt. It was plane black, nothing to signify that it was a sleep shirt. And she knew that women wore their soulmate's clothes all the time, so it wasn't that out of the ordinary, right? Pulling the collar up to her nose, she inhaled Barry's smell delicately.

She loves him. She  _told_  him she loves him. A smile brightened her expression without conscious thought, her heart beginning to speed up in her chest. He'd  _kissed_  her.

"If that's not the look of a woman in love, then I'm blind," Felicia said from the doorway, having changed from Barry's clothes and carrying them over one arm. Iris's cheeks immediately warmed in a blush as she dropped the collar of his shirt and turned to pick up her coat. Making a split decision, she left her shirt folded on the chair and wore the shirt he had given to her. "Awe, come on! You gotta tell me what happened! Barry was grinning like a right fool, too."

Glancing over her shoulder as she twisted her hair up to put in a bun, Iris couldn't supress the giddy feeling that overwhelmed her core. "Really?" she finally asked, sounding so meek and bashful.

Felicia laughed as she entered the room, dropping Barry's sleep clothes on the bed before she plunked herself down.

She had changed into a pair of black skinny jeans, fitting quite well on the male frame of Kevin's body, and an azure button-up that brought out the beautiful blue of her eyes. "Fell asleep grinning, he did. And  _I_  want to know  _why_."

Again, Iris ducked her head to hide her face as she used her hair-tie to secure the mussed up bun that she had created. "I love him," she mumbled finally, refusing to look back at Felicia. She'd only just met this woman, yet she felt as though she could tell her anything.

"Yes!" Felicia screamed, throwing her arms up before clapping excitedly. "I knew it! I so called it! Well, how'd you tell him? Was it when he came to get you? Did he sweep in like a knight in shining armor? Wait, we're talking about Barry," she halted, doubling back when she remembered which soulmate Iris had confessed to.

Gasping, Iris turned to gap at Felicia. "Be nice!"

"What? I mean, don't get me wrong, Barry's awesome but he'd not the 'sweep you off your feet' kinda guy."

Shaking her head, Iris moved to sit on the edge of his desk chair, avoiding the shirt she had left there. "He might surprise you," she argued. "Barry...he's safety. To me. I feel safe with all of you, but there's something about being with him that makes me feel invincible. Like nothing can touch me when he's around," she explained quietly, unable to stop smiling as she remembered how she had felt when he held her in his arms.

"So, what happened?" Felicia asked more calmly this time, leaning forward with intrigue.

Covering her flaming cheeks, Iris looked away for a moment to collect herself. "An officer dropped us off at the gate, and I was assuring him that no matter what it looked like down here, that I would love it. That there's nothing wrong with living somewhere a bit different. He called me perfect, even when I just…brushed it off the first time, he insisted." Felicia smiled softly as she watched Iris's expressions play out alongside her story. "So…I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me, too."

"Awww," Felicia cooed, understanding Barry's behaviour better now.

Knowing that she couldn't leave it at that, Iris took a deep breath before confessing, "He kissed me."

Felicia tried very hard to stay quiet, not wanting to startle the woman away, but a squeal of excitement still escaped as she wiggled happily on the bed. "Oh, go Barry! I didn't think he had it in him."

"Felicia!" Iris scolded again, but laughter lightened her tone.

Standing up, Felicia surged forward to catch Iris's hands. "We're not done talking about this; you can tell me every detail while I do your hair and makeup."

Iris didn't even have a chance to protest as she was tugged out of her other soulmate's bedroom, barely remembering to catch the light switch on their way out.

Barry's thing was art—drawing and designing clothes to be specific—but it seemed that Felicia's was the art of makeup. The others didn't like the makeup on their skin, or what it did to their skin, so she didn't actually get the chance to practice her talents. Iris wasn't a huge fan of makeup, mostly because she never took the time to learn how to apply it properly, so she was baffled by all of the things that Felicia lined up on the counter to use.

Iris was considerably paler than her, however, so she wasn't able to use the creams and powders for her face. Instead, she spent the time working on making her whiskey eyes—already absolutely gorgeous, in Felicia's opinion—pop and stand out.

"How did you learn all of this?" Iris asked as she sat with her eyes closed, letting Felicia work some colour into her eyelids with a gentle touch. She could barely feel the brush across her skin.

"The wonders of Youtube, darling. I'm Queen of Youtube."

Iris smiled at Felicia's positive attitude, relieved to have someone with her that wasn't weighed down on remembering the attack on the store yesterday. She was already going to have to dredge up what happened to the police, so she really didn't want to spend her time with her soulmate doing the same. "Have you ever thought of making your own channel? Doing videos?"

Felicia hummed softly in thought as she continued to work, tipping Iris's chin upward to get a different angle. "Sometimes I think about it now and then, but…I've watched other videos that are-" she paused, trying to find the right word, "Similar. People don't react very kindly."

"Similar?" Iris repeated, the word mumbled when she tried not to move her jaw against Felicia's hand. When she felt the brush leave her eyelid, she opened her eyes to meet Felicia's saddened blue gaze. "Do you mean because of your body?" she asked carefully, not wanting to upset.

Instead of answering, Felicia looked away and shifted her body with the pretense of collecting more colour on the brush she was using. Frowning sadly, Iris reached out to gently lay her palm on her soulmate's arm. The warm touch brought her blue gaze back to Iris, who offered a small, encouraging smile.

"You're beautiful, Felicia. You all have something unique to yourselves, even if you share the same body." Reaching up, she gently caressed a thumb beneath her eyes, where her other soulmates' skin never quite felt as smooth. "I can't say I fully understand how it works, but I do believe that each of you have your own unique differences each time you…take the light." She had heard them speak of the experience a couple of times and was trying to use familiar terms. "You smell different, and your skin seems so much…softer. You have gentle eyes, like they were meant to go with a smile. Patricia's look more motherly, and BT's come across a bit intimidating. Yours…they're soft."

Looking into her eyes already, Iris could see the welling of moisture as she spoke. Felicia tried to blink away the collecting tears, filled with emotion, as she licked her lips shyly. Cupping her soulmates cheeks, Iris leaned forward as Felicia closed her eyes. Pressing soft kisses to each lid, void of makeup, she pulled away once she felt the muscles in Felicia's jaw relax.

"You're beautiful, and those who can't see that are blinded to a wonderful, unique reality that I get to live with every day. If you want to make a Youtube channel, I think you should. You can even disable the comments on it. However, I think that what others have to say—good or bad—is superficial to what matters to you. Any video you make isn't for the likes or the comments; it's because you want to show the world something you love."

The gentle tears that had been building up couldn't be stopped any longer, spilling over as her soulmate let out a shaky breath and leaned into Iris's hands more fully. She leaned forward to kiss the tears away, understanding the emotion that Felicia was feeling.

She was worried that people would lash out at her for being in a man's body. Iris had heard of people reacting to men on the internet who loved makeup, and created tutorials for others to watch. It broke her heart to hear how people reacted sometimes. Just as she had thought hiding her marks would keep her safe from physical and emotional harm, Felicia was hesitating to take the chance by putting herself out for the world to see.

"Don't let simple-minded people try and stop you," she encouraged gently. Pulling away from her slowly, Felicia opened her eyes to see what Iris was doing. She watched, entranced, as Iris carefully rolled up the sleeves of Barry's shirt to expose the various marks along her arms—black and silver—that belonged to the other alters in Kevin's body.

Felicia exhaled in awe as she took in the different styles of writing, all so familiar to her, with the scars of Iris's past abuse marring some of them.

"The thought of people seeing these used to terrify me, because I knew I was different and it would be hard for others to accept. Now, I realize that there are only twenty-three people that really matter." Smiling brightly, Iris clasped Felicia's hands and squeezed them tightly in her small fingers. "There's going to be people who don't understand, but they're not important."

Nodding along, Felicia couldn't stop crying as she returned the tight hold that iris had on her hands. "Thank you, Gorgeous. I really needed to hear that." She released Iris's hands one to wrap her in an embrace, inhaling the soft scent of her soulmate's hair. It felt like silk again her cheek, coaxing her to touch it. She really wanted to style the beautiful strands, caught between dark chocolate and liquid gold.

When she pulled back, she framed Iris's face between her hands and gave a vibrant smile. Her makeup was incomplete, only the light touches of powder on either eyelid enhancing the colour of her eyes. She could see the beginnings of moisture collecting in the beautiful whiskey of her eyes and immediately began fanning her face gently.

"Don't you dare! I worked hard on those eyes," she scolded playfully, sniffling at the end as Iris sobbed a laugh.

"Okay, okay, no tears," she agreed, tipping her head back so as to prevent any more moisture from building.

Iris used one of the tissues close at hand to wipe Felicia's tears away before they resumed their focus on finishing her makeup. "So, if I make a channel, will you be my model for some of the videos?" Felicia asked after a brief pause in conversation, beginning to line above Iris's lashes with a thin flick of black eyeliner.

"I'd be happy to," Iris responded immediately, warmed at the thought of Felicia pursuing something that she loved.

They changed the conversation to lighter topics as Felicia finished with her makeup and moved on to doing her hair, marvelling at the soft strands as she debated on whether she wanted to curl them or straighten them. "I wonder how long this would be if I straightened it," she pondered, raking her fingers gently through the long strands.

"I don't think I've ever straightened it before. And it has been a while since I cut it," Iris responded in a daze. The feeling of someone running their fingers through her hair was sending shivers all down her spine. Felicia grinned coyly when she noticed Iris's focus was lacking and began massaging her soulmate's scalp gently. Iris nearly purred at the feeling as she unconsciously leaned back into her touch.

"I think I'll straighten it," Felicia decided to herself, raking fingers along Iris's skull gently before she carded the locks through her fingers. It was mostly curly, with a slightly crimped appearance because of the braid that it had been bound in the day before.

Iris hummed in acknowledgement but didn't respond, letting her head be tipped this way and that as she relaxed into the playful hands in her hair.

It dawned on Felicia after a moment that Iris probably never had nice experiences with her hair—at least not like most girls did. She doubted that her mother had lovingly brushed her hair in the morning or before bed, or styled it before she went off to school. It was most likely the opposite, using her hair to pull her this way or that. It broke Felicia heart to know that they had both been deprived of something so basic.

"Just relax, Gorgeous, and let me take care of you."


End file.
